Gifted Universe
by MutantsAndMasterpieces
Summary: Gifted Universe explores the life and growth of the Xmen, drawing from a healthy blend of the comic cannon, the animated series Evolutions, and the films. With few new characters, we focus on the old favorites and their adventures facing a dynamic world. They'll face prejudice, battles, love, politics, and most of all... themselves. Watch the story unfold in all unique Episodes!
1. Chapter 1 - Gifted

**Episode 1: "Gifted"**

The campus was quiet, but in that silence it was as majestic as Kurt Wagner knew it to be. "Do not get too used to the calm," he told the young Brazilian girl in his thick German accent. After a few years in America it had diluted only a little. "When everyone is back for school there will be friends for you everywhere." He smiled warmly, pleased he could do so without hiding his blue furred skin, expressive yellow eyes, and slightly pricked canine teeth.

The girl smiled back.

Professor Xavier rolled along in his wheelchair on the girl's other side. "Kurt is quite right, Amara, you will be joining a very…" he chuckled, "energetic community of friends and companions who share gifts like yours."

Kurt had to watch her mouth and turn his head to catch her timid speech. "They too make the earth to open?" she asked, not looking at either Kurt or the headmaster.

The Professor put his hand on the girl's small brown one. "No, but yours is just one of many wonderful gifts that can be found here. Several are just as powerful as yours, but in different ways."

Kurt was always impressed with his kindness and the talent Professor Xavier had for saying the right thing at the right time. When the girl met the Professor's eyes and her smile cautiously returned, Kurt was reminded of his own arrival.

The professor returned the smile and laid Amara's hand under his on the arm of his chair as he continued the tour.

Kurt happily followed them through the two levels of the double winged mansion, through the spacious public ground floor with its dark wood paneling, wrought iron fixtures and chandeliers giving off warm orange light, and comfy sitting areas decorated with provoking art from original paintings to china vases to fine sculpture.

"Everything you see here is for you," the professor said, showing Amara everywhere she'd soon learn to visit regularly. "When school begins again, you'll be living here with several others and still more will come after your classes from attending the high school."

"… The one they burned down?" Amara asked guiltily.

The Professor lowered his voice and rested his soft blue eyes on her round face. "Whoever put you in that gym wanted you to be blamed for the damage, but you were not at all to blame. We're still working on making contact with your parents, but until then you need to be strong with us. Can you do that?"

She slowly nodded and the Professor held her hand tighter.

"Come, I'll show you to your room."

Kurt followed them into the elevator in the middle of the first floor and rode up with them. He wished he could give the little girl some comfort, but he felt terribly inadequate to relate to her experience. He had been the one to discover her screaming in the corner of the collapsed and burning remains of Baywood High School's main gym. Thanks to his mutant talent of teleporting, he was able to snatch her from under the bleachers before they collapsed on top of her. The look on her face had been haunting and he stuck around to help her calm down not just to follow through on the rescue, but to be sure the expression was gone for good.

Amara looked around at the warm halls and peeked into the rooms with awe. "I have never seen such a lovely place…"

"It's your home now," the Professor said kindly. "And we will continue the tour of the grounds tomorrow." He pushed a door open. "This will be your room. There will be two more girls to share with you, but until then it's all yours. You can leave the light on and I'll leave someone outside your door to make sure no one can get you."

Kurt could see the girl's anxiety lift significantly. She suddenly hugged the Professor tight.

Kurt smiled at his hero and Xavier chuckled, once recovered from his surprise. He hugged her back. "Now you can draw a bath and get ready for bed. It's very late. You'll find some night clothes in the dresser."

Amara, thrilled and with a spring in her step, immediately ran into her room to search the dresser drawers.

"Kurt," the professor said privately while they watched the preteen press her cheek into the soft night gown and warm socks, "I'll be posting Jean as Amara's guard tonight, so you're free to return to Warren's. She's on her way back from Baywood."

He turned away from the girl's room. "What about the rest?" He hated to leave his friends at the flaming structure to bring Amara back and he felt out of the loop. "What have they discovered?"

The Professor took a moment, using his powers of telepathy to check in on his vigilante team of mutants. "Not much yet. Not even a source for the fire. Warren wants you to be careful on your way back home. The humans somehow got wind of Amara despite our best efforts. It's being considered a mutant attack."

Kurt's heart sank. "An… attack? Will Warren be alright?"

"They'll be fine, Kurt. For now, you need to get back to the Worthington estate and look after Piotr and Anna. Until this blows over, stay indoors as much as you can." He smiled a little to soften the blow. "Think of it as a rainy day."

In addition to Kurt's fur, glowing eyes, and pointed ears, he also sported animalistic legs and a spade tail which drooped now with regret. "Anna is not going to like that, sir. She hates board games."

The Professor smiled sadly. "Do your best, Kurt. If anyone finds out what you three are, you will be in a great deal of danger out on the streets. Stay at Warren's as a personal favor to me if nothing else."

Kurt sighed and nodded. "As you wish, Professor. Good night."

"Good night, Kurt."

In a cloud of blue sulfur smoke and with a loud "BAMF", Kurt disappeared from the hall in the manor and reappeared in a tree several hundred yards outside the regal, vine-wrapped mansion house.

After another moment, he bamfed again and reappeared in the grounds of a neighboring estate. To seek his next landing place and potentially his target, Kurt gave an acrobatic leap and swung with great skill from his tree to a taller one nearby, silent except for the rustling of a few leaves and the soft whip of his tail that balanced his landing. Like a true creature of the night, Kurt shuffled up the tree with sure hands and feet, peering into the distance toward another large estate and bamfed three more times. Once he reappeared on a diving board of an Olympic sized private pool and amused himself with a spring loaded leap before teleporting again. He wasn't so lucky that time. He landed on a garden fence right in front of a guard dog's weather-proofed kennel. The animal barely had time to bark before Kurt disappeared, leaving the bewildered beast to the scolding of a sleepy master.

When he reappeared a split second later, Kurt landed on a fountain carved with angels and crouched there, a demon, peering up gratefully at a house lit up and bright with light from inside which streamed out through huge glass windows everywhere they could be fit in. Kurt bamfed inside the main foyer and straightened up, dusting off leaves and some dust from his adventure on the way back.

All through the house the ceilings were high and the staircases as open as they could get. Kurt could hear a piano concerto echoing through the vaulted halls and rooms and he quickly looked at his watch. There was a clock on a small table right next to him, but he wasn't checking the time. With a quick adjustment, the watch whirred and clicked and in a moment Kurt's devilish appearance was hidden behind a visual projection of a normal looking boy with his facial features but conventional pink skin and scruffy black hair. His clothes also changed appearance, turning his smoky, charred Institute Uniform into baggy cargo pants and a t-shirt.

At times Kurt despised his image-inducer, but on innumerable occasions he thanked God for it and the freedom it allowed him to avoid detection as a mutant in the intolerant world of ignorant and fearful humans. At this point he was grateful and he tried to speed up his walk as he passed by the music room where the piano was the loudest.

It suddenly stopped. "Oh! Hello Kurt!"

He flinched and was forced to pause and shoot a small smile into the room. "Hello, Fräulein Kate."

Kate Farnsworth stood from behind the piano, a slender and perfectly pretty blonde who stood a short 5' 4". Her hair was always perfect, no matter what, and there was something plastically crisp about her immaculate complexion, manicured nails, and multitude of domestic talents. His stomach turned to see yet another well-tailored, pressed, cotton print dress that hung perfectly, just above her knees.

She smiled at him. "Kurt, I didn't see you at dinner. Are you hungry?"

Kurt knew that although Kate cooked masterful meals, she would insist he not eat alone. He knew he could have no appetite at the table with her there, so he lied. "No, thank you."

Her pretty face fell, but a smile was soon restored itself, if a little dimmed. "Well neither were Anna and Piotr. I'm not sure where they've gotten to, but I'm glad to see you. Would you like to sing with me? I know a few" –

Kurt fidgeted. "No, but thank you. I need to… go." He couldn't look directly at her and took a step backward further out the door.

Kate cocked her head slightly and her wavy blonde hair gave a subtle bounce that infuriated him. He hated himself for it. "Go?"

He thought up an excuse and bobbed a little on his feet. "I need to go. Go."

Kate blushed and laughed. It was musical and his stomach twisted angrily. "Oh! I'm sorry. Go. I didn't mean to keep you."

Kurt bobbed his head in gratitude and hurried off as if he were, indeed, hurrying to the bathroom, but instead he waited in the hall until her concerto began again and then hurried to the big white-tiled kitchen.

When he got to the door, he faced a huge obstacle. His nearly seven foot tall friend Piotr Rasputin was standing with his back to the doorway, effectively though unintentionally blocking all possibility of getting past.

Piotr was thinking out loud, and obviously still thinking in his native language and having to channel his meaning through English. "But the woman on the television said mutants caused the explosion…"

Though Kurt couldn't see her, he could certainly hear his adoptive sister Anna as she clattered around the kitchen with her warm Mississippi accent.

"Y'don't trust news folks, Piotr!" she replied. "Think she's a mutant?"

"Well… no?"

"No," Anna said firmly. "No, because, Piotr, we don't get on the TV."

Piotr was quiet for a moment, oblivious to Kurt trying to peek around him to squeeze into the room. "But Warren is on the television all the time."

Anna sighed. "Because nobody knows Warren's a mutant. If they did, we'd be seein' his name all up on every gossip paper in the country, but never sayin' nothin' good."

Piotr's usual smile disappeared in a frown. "There is nothing bad about Warren!"

"That's exactly what ah'm sayin', Piotr," Anna said, nodding. "News folks always pick out the worst in people, 'specially us."

He nodded sagely. "Yes. They should instead be talking about the bad mutant who blew up the high school!"

Anna stared at him a second in disbelieving silence. "Piotr! Weren't you listening?!"

He looked back at her innocently. "…to what?"

She slapped his arm with a dishtowel, but it was about as effective at harming him as a tickle.

Kurt, having found no way around Piotr's broad back, teleported into the kitchen.

Piotr smiled and Anna was the only one who jumped.

"Kurt!" she snapped. "Why do you gotta give me a heart attack whenever you make an entrance?" She smiled, though. She was a curvy brunette with long sleeves, grunge-style layering, and vintage gloves up to her elbows whose white color set off a streak of white hair at her forehead. "Took you long enough. What really happened at the school?"

"The news said a mutant did it," Piotr said. "We have been watching the news to see if we could see Warren at the scene."

"If we did our job right," Kurt replied, "then none of us should be on the television. Besides, I was only there for rescue, not search or investigation."

Anna took a large, full Tupperware from the refrigerator. "So there was a rescue?"

Kurt took a seat at the granite-topped island and Piotr soon did too. "Yes. The Professor sensed a mutant in the wreckage, but she was barely awake. We found her in the first few minutes and I teleported her to the van and we were driven home."

"Her?" Anna asked, dishing up generous portions of the meal on three plates.

"Did she destroy the school?" Piotr asked.

Kurt shook his head. "No. We believe she was planted there. She is hardly twelve years old. Her name is Amara."

Anna's face fell and she paused before putting the first plate in the microwave. "Oh! The poor lil' thing!"

"The last thing she remembers is being at home in Brazil, and then waking in the burning gym…"

Anna punched the numbers into the microwave fiercely. "Damn criminals, tryin' t'frame a little girl! She's just a kid!"

Piotr mirrored her angry expression, but his was colored with confusion. "Could she have been made to destroy the school?"

"Forced?" Kurt asked then shook his head. "No. She has volcanic powers. If she had even accidentally caused damage to the school, it would be through fissures and lava. This was purely flame. There was no disturbance of the ground at all."

Anna continued heating up the plates of food and the kitchen began to carry a fresh and savory smell. "What did the others think?"

"Warren did a couple of flyovers to see if he could find anyone hiding to see the outcome of the attack, but he did not find anything," he said sadly. "Storm rained out the fire so Cyclops and Jean could look for any other victims."

Piotr accepted his plate with a polite, "Thank you" before looking back at Kurt attentively. "An explosion like that could hurt a lot of people. School starts next week. If they intended to terrorize the town of Bayville, why did they not wait until the gym was full of students?" He shrugged self-consciously. "…not that it would be a good thing at all…"

"It's okay, Piotr," Anna said, bringing over her and Kurt's plates, "Ah was askin' myself the same thing."

Kurt took his fork and held it, thinking. "They might not have meant to do that much harm… The Professor says the atmosphere for us out in the city is very hostile. It could be that whoever has done this thing wants Bayville to fear us."

Anna snorted, clattering a stool as she hauled it over to sit on. "Hate us is more like. Not like they all need that much help with that!"

Kurt shrugged sadly and finally looked at his plate. "Wow…"

Anna sighed and took a bite. "Yeah. Coque au Vin. Ah texted Remy t'ask what the hell it is. Says it's chicken."

Piotr already had his mouth full and he swallowed, smiling. "I like it! Ms. Kate is almost better in the kitchen than my mother."

Anna glowered at him, picking at her plate. "How dare you, Piotr? She's a human."

"My mother? Of course she is."

"No! I mean Barbie Kate!" Anna snapped.

"Oh… But she is very nice. And she makes delicious food. And plays beautiful music."

Anna frowned more. "Careful, Piotr, or ah may think you're goin' to the dark side."

Piotr swallowed with difficulty, looking away from Anna's livid eyes.

"She really is not a bad person, Anna," Kurt said slowly, staring at his meal of tender chicken and flavorful sauce. "Piotr can like her if he wants to."

She glared at him. "'Not a bad person'? Says the Preacher about the Barbie in Warren's bed."

Kurt stabbed the chicken on his plate. "Anna there is no need to be so vulgar."

"Ah could've said a lot worse than that," she smiled evilly.

Piotr made a face. "Please do not get worse."

Kurt sighed, unable to look up at his sister's face. "I cannot be upset with Warren for seeking companionship…"

"Female companionship," Anna specified. "You say you can't, but you are. And Ah think you'd be more upset if he was lookin' for another blue-furred kid to stay in his house over the summer."

Kurt dropped his fork. "I am not jealous over Warren!"

Anna smirked a little, having gotten a rise out of him. "Of course not. That'd be a deadly sin."

"Anna," Piotr said, "that is a very unkind thing to say."

She smiled innocently. "Ah'm just tryin' to make a point that Barbie could make even my sainted brother swear."

Kurt's human image flushed in annoyance, but that just made it even harder to deny Anna's point was a good one. "They have only been dating a couple of months…"

"Things work different here in New York than they do in the Bible, Preacher," Anna said. "'Round here three dates is enough."

Kurt's stomach soured and he pushed away his plate. "I just have a hard time believing she is good for him. She calls him all the time. She demands never to be alone… She is not helping him to be himself at all. She is holding him back and God forgive me if it is a sin to be concerned for my finest friend's choice in women!"

"That is not a sin," Piotr said, concerned.

Anna shrugged. "Ah'll betcha she's somethin' his snobby daddy 'Dr. Warren Worthington II' thought would be good for his shameful mutant son. What could be better for the golden son of Worthington Industries than a prissy lil' trophy wife clingin' to his arm? Might be to take people's eyes off his bulky back under that silly lookin' trench coat hidin' his wings."

Kurt stared at her, hating how much her guess made sense. Warren's father made his living trying to contain, and/or cure the growing mutant "problem" as politicians had been referring to it, and, being the head of a billion dollar company, it was a constant struggle for him to keep Warren's angel-wing mutation a secret.

"But," Piotr said, "this summer we have seen Warren smile a lot more. And she would not still be here if he did not like her. She is very pretty… and close to him. They are definitely good friends."

Anna suddenly sat up and pointed at the windows behind them. "He's home!"

Kurt turned just in time to see Warren, his wide white wings spread in the moonlight, glide past the large bay windows of the kitchen. With two powerful wing beats, he gained altitude and disappeared out of view. "He is going to the back door!"

"Bet he can tell us more 'bout the school!" Anna said and they scrambled to get the dishes into the sink and rinsed.

It was in times like these that Kurt wished he could teleport around the house, but with Kate there, power use was off-limits so she wouldn't see them. They rushed as fast as they could to the back door, but by the time they entered the hall, they could already hear they'd been beaten to him.

"Warren!" Kate's voice was saying, full of concern. "Look at your clothes! Are you alright? You weren't anywhere near that attack, were you? You could have been hurt! Or attacked! You could have called me!"

Anna peeked around to spy on them despite Kurt poking her with his tail. "That is rude, Anna!"

She slapped his tail spade away. "Since when has that ever stopped me?"

Kurt was about to reply, but instead joined her at the corner, taking a place just under her while Piotr peeked curiously out from a spot on the corner above both of them.

Warren had found time to put his street clothes on over his uniform, but his white shirt had soot on it from the fire, as did his folded wings and blonde hair. He held Kate's narrow shoulders and made her look at him. "Katie! I'm alright, see? I'm fine. I wasn't hurt, or attacked. I was at the lab, just like I said." He smiled, a handsome smile by any standard.

She didn't buy it for a second. "You smell like fire. And you look like you've been cleaning a chimney, Warren. Please don't lie to me."

He sighed and let her go. "Fine. I might have, maybe, gone to look over the school… But I didn't do anything more than that. And I was perfectly safe."

Kurt watched Kate sigh and finally smile just a little. "Fine."

"And yes, I could have called and I didn't," Warren said, pleased to see she wasn't upset anymore. "I'm sorry for that. I figured you'd be alright with the kids here with you."

"They don't like me at all, Warren," she said.

Anna smiled.

"Except Piotr."

Piotr smiled and Anna elbowed him, but he was unaffected.

"You don't know that, Katie," Warren said, hanging up his coat. "I told you, they're just teenagers. They don't like anyone."

Kate folded her arms. "They love you. They really don't like me." She put a hand up to stop his reply. "Please, Warren, I don't want to argue about this. This wasn't the point." She smiled a little, gentler. "I just mean it gets lonely, even when the kids are here. But I appreciate you not leaving me alone. It means a lot."

Anna mumbled under her breath venomously. "Look at her, just reelin' him in… Playin' all of those mind games…"

"She went to school for psychiatry," Kurt reminded her, bothered too.

Piotr was confused. "But she is just being nice… Should not everyone be that understanding?"

Kurt didn't like to hear that. It got him wondering how badly he was behaving.

Warren, not hearing them, nodded. "I'm sorry, Katie… I'll do what I can to keep in better contact, but I can't be on call all day. I have too much to do."

"I'm not asking to be on speaker phone with you all day," she said sarcastically. "I just want to hear from you at lunch, and to know when you're coming back. That's all. I'll try to handle it the rest of the day."

"Deal."

Piotr whispered again. "Have they kissed yet? Or have we missed it?"

Kurt looked at him in surprise. "Piotr!"

"I just have not seen a couple not kiss in greeting, especially when she was worried."

Anna agreed. "If they're really all hot on each other, he'd be practically sucking her lips off."

Kurt made a face. "Just because you wish Remy were here and that he could do that does not mean anything."

"They just don't look in love, Kurt," Anna snapped defensively. "That's all Ah'm sayin'."

"Anna," Piotr said, "they have finished speaking…"

Kurt looked back and sure enough Kate left Warren's side heading toward the kitchen, and Warren immediately turned to look at them. Kurt's heart sank. "He knew we were here the whole time…"

Anna quickly pulled out of view as Warren started to walk over. "Well he knows you were here!" She started to sneak off, but Warren's voice stopped her.

"Anna, I know you're there!"

She stopped and sighed, folding her arms over her chest to face him as he stood in front of them. "So what?"

He was a relatively tall man and his large, furled wings thickened his lean silhouette. "'So what'? 'So', I didn't leave you all at home to ignore Kate. Didn't you eat with her?"

"No," Piotr said.

It hurt Kurt to see Warren's expression and he hung his head.

"How many times do I have to explain that she is monophobic?" he asked. He didn't usually get mad, but Kurt's chest got tight and he couldn't make words for how badly it felt to have a man who was so much like family show disappointment in him.

"She's just clingy!" Anna retorted.

"She is not," Warren said. "She is diagnosed and everything. She needs people around, and not people who avoid her!"

Anna sulked, but kept quiet.

"But I do know that she needs some things that make it hard to deal," Warren admitted. "But you all only have a week left before you'll be moving back into the Institute for school."

"Bayville will still open on time?" Kurt asked, surprised.

"Yes, they're just shutting down the main gym until it can be fixed," Warren explained. "The school board was planning to renovate the gym anyway so at this point they're just planning to move up the renovation schedule."

Piotr smiled. "That is good, then!"

"That's the school's way of staying out of the mutant question," Warren said. "The city is in an uproar. It's not safe for any of us out there. It's being advised to everyone to stay indoors and not to leave for anything just in case they're mistaken for mutants."

Anna glowered. "Great! Now we're stuck here!"

Warren smiled wryly. "At the beginning of the summer you begged to come here."

"That was before she found out she is ordered to stay," Kurt said. He smiled at his sister.

She frowned and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever."

Warren caught and held their eyes. "This is not a 'whatever' situation. This is serious. If you go out there, you will be hurt. Others will be hurt. And, worse, you may give away the whole Institute."

Kurt stared, sure he hadn't ever seen Warren looking this serious.

Warren made sure each of them could understand. "If that happens there won't be anywhere for anyone to go. You stay inside. Professor Xavier's orders."

Kurt nodded with Anna and Piotr. He intended to listen, too. He fully meant to stay out of the way, to keep busy, and to just keep his head down with the others until the end of the week when they could pack up their things and move into the Institute where all of Charles Xavier's hand-picked mutant children stayed for the school year.

Anna, however, got cabin fever after the first day and was testing their 'prison' by the third.

Kurt kept a close eye on her and reminded her of the dangers whenever she started to nonchalantly make for an exit, or try to convince Piotr to help her break out. Thankfully Piotr had no interest in doing anything against Warren and the Professor, so she usually ended up in the garden or up in her room on the phone complaining to someone who'd listen.

It was hard for all of them, Kurt was sure. Well, not quite sure. Piotr seemed almost to be enjoying himself. Warren had given him as many blank canvases and paint as he could ever dream of in his small farming town in Russia and he seemed to have more inspiration than he knew what to do with. Painting upon painting came from his brush and he spent hours in the garden with his tall easel, canvases, and palate.

Kurt had a view of the fruitful garden from his own personal sanctuary; a large out-building that had been converted into a gym. It was huge with high ceilings, built initially for Warren to practice taking off and landing away from prying eyes. Kurt's favorite things about it were the several hundred different hand and foot holds all over the walls and ceiling.

Where Piotr had been brought to the United States only a year before, Kurt had been there for two. He'd left behind Germany and an adoptive family in a famous circus. It was there he'd developed his acrobatic talents, and he worked hard to keep them up. Not only for the circus, but also for whatever might be asked of him at Xavier's Institute.

He was just finishing an ambitious routine, his image inducer off. He noticed Anna had stopped working with her heavy punching bag and was staring out the door of the gym.

He bamfed down to look over her shoulder. "What is it, Anna?"

She pointed, frowning. "Look at that…"

Piotr wasn't alone in his garden. Kate had joined him, all dressed up for an event she and Warren were going to later. She was even leaning in to apparently compliment his brush strokes.

Anna wasn't pleased. "Look at him… Totally sucked in."

Kurt sighed, tail swishing uncertainly. "Well he is nicer to her than we are. We cannot blame her for warming up to him."

To Kurt's discomfort, Piotr was smiling and Kurt saw all the signs of his friend's simple bashfulness coming out, even from a distance.

Anna took off her workout gloves and pulled on her long elbow gloves before marching out toward them. "Well, enough of this."

"Anna? Do not do anything stupid! Anna?" Kurt turned on his inducer and hurried after her.

As they both got closer, they could hear Kate and Piotr talking and laughing. Kurt could see it infuriate Anna more, and he couldn't deny he felt protective of his closest companion.

"Hey!" Anna shouted, interrupting their discussion.

Kurt saw Anna get mad pretty often, but she was the kind that made a big deal when she got a little mad and was harder to defend against when she was really mad. It scared him to see that she wasn't advancing hunched over with fists clenched like a mad dog, but instead walked confidently forward with an unreadable, even expression.

Piotr looked up in surprise and even smiled and waved. "Hello, Anna!"

Kate, however, paled and took an uncertain half-step backward as if she could see right through the calm before the storm. "Hello, Kurt. Anna."

Anna smiled stiffly. "You a painting expert, Barbie?"

Kate frowned. "Anna, that is not my name."

"You ain't gonna answer my question? How rude…"

Piotr looked between them, nervous.

Kate cleared her throat. "Yes, I spent some time in art classes, and I like to visit galleries when I"-

"But are you an EX-PERT?" Anna interrupted, stepping forward, filling Kate's personal space.

Piotr looked at Kurt, afraid, and Kurt tried to quell his small thrill of enjoyment at seeing the apparent expert on everything put to the fire in order to realize Anna could do real damage. As mad as she was, Anna's powers would make a simple push, brush, or touch level the petite psychiatrist into deep comatose.

"No, I'm not an expert…"

Kurt began to squirm inside and he opened his mouth to intervene, but he didn't have to.

Anna grinned, opening her mouth to let fly something vicious, but her smile disappeared as Warren approached.

"Kate, are you ready to" – he paused, seeing them together. "What's going on?!"

To Kurt's surprise, Kate smiled as if nothing had been going on. "Nothing, Warren, it's alright. Yes, I'm ready. We can"-

Warren looked at them all, frowning. "No, it's not nothing. What did I tell all of you? Did I mumble?"

Piotr fiddled with his paint brush. "No, sir, you did not mumble."

Kate held up her hand only slightly to Piotr with a soft shake of her head.

"We didn' do nothin'," Anna said, throwing up a solid wall of denial.

Kurt couldn't even look at Warren. Warren was like an older brother to him, and Kurt had never had Warren mad at him this often ever.

Warren opened his mouth to confront her, but Kate caught hold of his elbow. He settled with a slow sigh and shook his head. When he looked at them again, he smiled almost wearily. "Nevermind. Just nevermind. We should be celebrating."

There was something odd about the expression on Warren's face and Kurt stared into it, worried. Anna blinked in confusion. She'd been prepared for a fight and was still flushed, frowning.

"What are we celebrating?" Piotr asked, relieved at the broken tension.

"Kate got a job!" Warren smiled, putting a hand on Kate's shoulder.

She was wearing the same smile as Warren and Kurt now watched her with interest. It had to be something she had done… Warren was acting far too strangely.

Piotr grinned. "Congratulations, Ms. Kate."

Anna glared at him.

"Thank you," Kate said. She looked up at Warren. "We should go or we'll miss the dinner."

"Right," he replied and hooked her hand onto his arm. "Remember, guys, stay here. Order pizza, set up a movie, whatever you like."

Piotr waved, smiling. "Enjoy your dinner."

Kate smiled warmly. "Thank you, Piotr."

Anna glowered as they left; Kate in her elegantly simple dress of fine fabric and Warren in his fine suit with his wings hidden effectively by their restraining harness and covered by his large coat. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Why must you dislike her so much?" Piotr demanded indignantly.

Anna whirled to face the nearly seven-foot tall artist, turning her ire toward him. "Do you see what she's doing to Warren? She's a damn shrink! A human shrink! She's got her twisted lil' mind tricks goin' in both of you! Y'think she actually cares about us?"

"She told me she works with mutant children, like us," Piotr said. "She wants to help others like us…"

Anna's fists clenched. "She can't! She ain't got no right t'even talk t'us, Piotr! She's just a damn do-gooder who thinks we're a problem they gotta solve!"

Anna's words appealed to Kurt as an explanation for the suspicions he had of Kate, and he felt himself wanting to believe the rest of it too.

"Well, there ain't no way Ah'm lettin' her have a night out, keepin' us inside," Anna fumed, marching back to the house.

"What?!" Kurt bamfed in her way. "We cannot go outside the estate!"

"Who says?" Anna demanded. "Warren. For all we know, its Barbie tellin' him t'tell us t'stay inside. She might be studyin' us like her lil' lab rats."

Piotr came over in concern. "She does not know we are mutants, Anna…"

"We don't know that!" Anna snapped. "Ah'm goin' to the movies with or without you two goats!"

Piotr blinked. "'Goats'?"

"Anna, please do not go out."

"You're not gonna stop me," Anna snapped, marching toward the mansion.

Kurt sighed. "Well in that case, I am coming with you. You cannot go alone."

"And I will not let the two of you go without me," Piotr insisted, quickly cleaning up his painting supplies and following them inside.

Anna was the only one of them who had a driver's license and had the nerve to "borrow" a car from Warren's garage without permission. Kurt made her swear it would return in perfect condition before he or Piotr got in. He made an amendment to the oath when Anna took them through a drive thru for cheeseburgers. If there was one thing Kurt had wished for while they were stuck on the estate it was a cheeseburger. That was one bribe he couldn't resist.

He was, however, observing the city as they passed. Bayville was a quiet, well-to-do town. It wasn't large, and very young in its population. Usually the night life was high for a town its size, but as they drove toward the mall on the other side of town, heading for the theater, the only people walking around were in groups of three or four and they all lurked in the shadows or scurried from streetlight to streetlight. There were no other cars on the streets. It worried him, but after the double-deluxe bacon cheeseburger with curly fries Kurt was far more open to discussing what movie to see.

With a whole theater nearly to themselves, a large order of popcorn for each of them, and an explosive adventure movie, Kurt was easily swept away. He was a movie-buff. He could quote from all the classics, and often amused himself reenacting epic scenes of heroes old and new using props and what costumes he could put together for fun and to make his friends laugh. The greatest thrill was to be sucked into the film to the point he felt a part of it.

In the middle of the climax, Kurt's tail (the only part of his anatomy that couldn't be hidden by his inducer, and had to be tucked away out of sight) slipped out to wave behind him happily.

As the lights finally came back up and the handful of other people in the theater began to leave, Piotr shook his head. "That seemed very unrealistic."

"Of course it did, Piotr," Anna said, smiling, "it was a good movie. If they made all movies realistic, there would be only one interesting thing happening in a whole lifetime of nose-pickin'ly boring everyday stuff."

Kurt stood after Piotr and Anna started to walk out the aisle. He stretched, grinning, unaware his blue, spade tipped tail was still out of hiding for all to see. "I think they should make a movie about us!" He said, a spring in his step as he followed them out.

"Us?" Piotr asked, confused. "Why? We do not do anything interesting…"

Anna grinned. "Not yet we don't. Well, not yet YOU don't. You think it wasn't interestin' t'go check out a burnin', exploded school gym? T'rescue a scared, defenseless girl?"

Kurt puffed out his chest a little. "You make it sound like I was a hero rescuing a damsel in distress!"

"Which, by definition, you did," Anna replied.

Kurt waved his arm around like he held a sword, imagining his adventure in a new and wonderfully theatric light. "Wow! I did!"

Anna smiled and looked at Piotr. "You've only been in the Professor's school a year, Piotr. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Piotr asked.

"It means, Piotr, that PE at XI don't exactly mean ugly gym shorts, awkward locker rooms, and dorky exercises like jumpin' jacks and pushups."

Kurt walked between them, oblivious to the pale stares and vicious whispers of onlookers, as they left the mall to go toward the parking lot. "This year you will likely go into active training!" He looked at Anna, tickled at his dramatic new revelation. "So we are like the people in the movies and TV, then?"

"Sure we are," she replied, "as long as you push all the long practices, broken bones, sucky high-school life, and how much everyone hates us out of it, we could look a lot like them guys in the movies you like so much."

"So," Piotr said thoughtfully, "we are to become heroes?"

"Yes!" Kurt proclaimed, striking another pose. "The finest heroes in the world!"

Anna didn't share his vision. "All depends on how you look at it, Piotr. Or who's lookin' at it to be more precise."

Kurt jumped up onto the hood of a car, standing straight, tall, and proud. "We are looking at it, friends! We are looking and we are the only ones who decide whether we will be men, mice"- he looked at Anna and paused –"or women."

The expression on her face turned to horror and she looked around nervously. "Kurt! Git down right now!"

Piotr's eyes widened and he grabbed Kurt's arm, pulling him down. "Hide your tail!"

Kurt's heart sunk down so low he knew it had plunged straight down through his feet below the pavement. He hastily started tucking his tail away, but tall, broad shapes came out of the shadows between the cars in the lot.

Anna backed up close to them, fists clenched and glaring defensively. "Too late…"

Kurt watched as men came out of the darkness, grown men with everything from vicious scowls and gnarled fists, to righteous resolve and tire irons in their hands. They didn't look like thugs or gang members. What really unnerved Kurt was that most were regular men who looked like they had solid jobs, families, and responsibility in the community.

Piotr apparently saw this too. "We do not mean any harm," he said, attempting a smile to them.

"We?" A man stepped out of the circling mob, speaking for all of them. He was a tough looking man, someone Kurt judged to work a manual job that required muscle and authoritative thinking. "You protecting that thing?" He pointed to Kurt who by now had tucked his tail out of sight, but they'd all apparently seen it.

Anna glared at him. "Yeah, what of it?!"

The mob tightened their circle around them and Kurt whispered at Anna. "Please, do not anger them! Ask them what they want and we will give it to them and be on our way." He swallowed miserably, wishing they'd never left the estate, but at least they hadn't seen all of his mutation. That was proven to bring out torches and pitchforks in even the most urban of places.

Anna frowned, but addressed the leader. "What the hell d'you want?!"

That wasn't how Kurt would have had her phrase it.

"We want him and his kind outta this town!" the man shouted and the crowd roared in approval.

Piotr seemed torn, but he was a solid wall blocking them from Kurt and he wasn't about to let anything move him. "He has not done anything to this place!"

Voices from all around the circle roared in response. "He blew up the school!" "They're threatening our kids!" "They're a danger to the state!"

This was more than what Anna could put up with. "Like hell he did! He's a good kid and doesn't go sneakin' around ambushin' kids half his age in a public parkin' lot!"

The leader's face hardened angrily. "So what? Are you saying he's like your pet? You keep him long enough, something like that's gonna bite."

Anna glared right back at him as he advanced. "You get up in my face, Ah'll bite too."

He grinned, baring his teeth. "Not surprised, since you talk like a southern hick. You want to go back to your backwoods hole, little girl?" He reached out to shove her aside on his way to grab Kurt.

Anna grabbed the front of his shirt, hauled him in front of her and landed a hard right jab directly on his nose. The muted crunch of the small bones breaking set everyone off.

All of the men suddenly descended on Anna who spit, snarled, and swung with all her might. Some of them remembered what they'd come to do in the first place and went straight for Kurt.

All Kurt saw was Anna beset by ten men grabbing at her fiercely fighting arms and legs and he suddenly bamfed out from behind Piotr onto the shoulders of two dark men, slamming their heads together hard, severely reducing their willingness to continue fighting. "Anna, get out of there!"

"Like hell!" she yelled back, a wicked grin on her face as she kneed a tall man in the crotch before swinging him around by his belt to gain momentum, letting him go to knock down two others nearby. She immediately pounced on a man with a scruffy mustache and fought to get him in a chokehold.

Kurt was more a strike and dodge fighter. He bamfed from one group to another, dealing sharp, carefully placed blows to sensitive targets while constantly keeping out of the eye-to-eye range of the attackers' simple fist and foot attacks. He soon noticed, however, that for every man they ran off, more joined the fray. He bamfed a few feet above the fight in the air to see how this was happening and was dismayed to see and hear some who had run away crying out for help against a mutant attack. Younger, stronger men were running towards them, armed with real weapons. They looked like the anti-mutant gangs that had been on TV the last few days and Kurt's heart began to pound in fear as he rejoined the fray.

"Anna!" he called out hoping she'd hear him. "We need to get out! There are more coming!"

A huge arm suddenly cleared four men, shoving them forcefully out to the perimeter of the fight. Piotr pushed and shoved threats away from his friends, but Kurt could see the big Russian boy was close to losing his temper. He picked up a new arrival and flung him along the ground like he was skipping a stone. "Leave my friends alone!"

Anna's laugh surprised Kurt. "Get 'em, Piotr! You show 'em who they're dealin' with!" Kurt caught a glimpse of her and was startled to see she'd earned a split lip, but he knew the man who'd dealt the blow would be on the ground somewhere twitching long after the fight was over.

"Be careful, Piotr! Do not hurt them," Kurt said, bamfing onto Piotr's shoulders to catch a small breather.

"Do not worry, my friend," Piotr said, "I will not hurt them…" He hurled one onto the hood of a car whose alarm went off at the impact which dented the metal. "…not too badly."

As Kurt attempted to leap off of Piotr's shoulders, he felt a forceful yank on his tail that felt like it might pull it clean off. He yelped and attempted to teleport, landing on top of a tall truck cab. He looked back only to see a couple of men had succeeded in climbing onto Piotr's back. A younger one clung to his back like a tick where Piotr couldn't reach to pull him off and was attempting to choke him out.

"Anna! Piotr needs"- Kurt gasped. He was going to ask for help, but his blood ran cold to see Anna had her arms pulled back uselessly and there were more assailants attempting to grab hold of her ankles. She bit and snarled, but they had their window of opportunity and were making full use of it.

Kurt's feet suddenly slipped and he looked down around the truck to find eight of the gang members trying to dislodge him from the cab roof by rocking the tall truck as hard as they could. "Stop it! Stop! I have not hurt anyone! Let us go and we will not press charges!"

They only laughed, cursed, and doubled their efforts until all Kurt could do was cling to any possible grip he could get on the cab.

Piotr fought to get to Anna, but as his parasitic attacker succeeded in distracting him more, he couldn't fight off others who soon started to advance with their weapons at the ready.

As Kurt slipped and slid from one side of the cab roof to the other, he started to hear something rumbling under the shouts and cheers of the mob celebrating their oncoming victory. He listened harder and chanced a glance up at the lot entrance. He saw the two lights first, then focused and waved frantically. "Over here! Please, please, over here!"

The leaders of the group were smart enough to look up too, but not very fast. By the time they did, a huge motorcycle roared straight toward the middle of the mob and almost half took off running, afraid to be identified in the bright, chic headlights.

Those left, the most aggressive, seemed confused, staring at the wicked looking bike as it shot right into the middle of them and whipped around in a tight turn with screeching tires, the rider sitting low and revving the engine.

Piotr and Anna were not stunned, however, and the distraction was enough for them to gain the upper hand. Anna flipped the man holding her arms up over her head and onto the ground where he scrambled to rise and get out of there. Piotr slammed his clinging opponent against the truck Kurt was on and Kurt joined his friends in running off the last of the men.

"And stay the hell away!" Anna yelled after them, throwing a tire iron which fell short of their rapidly retreating backs. She touched her split lip and grimaced at the blood left on her glove. "Damn…"

"Are you alright, Kurt?" Piotr asked seriously.

Kurt was watching the rider dismount the bike and puff cigar smoke out like a raging furnace stack. "Better than I will be…"

Anna stood with the two of them while their rescuer marched over.

"Of all the goddam stupid things that coulda made my night any worse," he roared at them as he came under the street light. "What the hell did you think you were doing, huh?! I thought you was smart kids!" The light threw dark shadows over the rough angles in his face, catching on his thick sideburns, black hair, and deeply furrowed brow. He gestured violently with his thick, half-smoked cigar, spreading ashes over the oil stained asphalt. "Didn't Warren tell alla you to stay inside?! As far as I know, he don't stutter! His damned rich daddy spent too much damn money on him to have him not be CLEAR!" He shoved the cigar back between his teeth and put his fists on his narrow hips, looking like either a tall murderous dwarf or short homicidal giant.

Kurt couldn't look at him and struggled to hide his tail again.

Piotr wrung his hands in front of him nervously, unable to look at him either. "Mr. Logan, we"-

Jim Logan pounced on the opportunity and stood right up in front of Piotr, short enough that he could look right up into his face. "Don't you give me an excuse, you hear me?!"

Piotr yanked his chin up and looked straight ahead, humiliated and full of reproach.

Logan grunted and stood in front of Kurt. "You put that thing away before anyone else sees it," he growled, gesturing at his tail.

Kurt, his heart in his throat, fumbled to do so and his face burned miserably. "Yes, Herr Logan."

In another two steps, he stood in front of Anna who stared fiercely right back at him, blood clotting up on her bottom lip. He took the cigar from between his teeth, tapped the ashes off against his leg, and blew out a lungful of smoke. "This thing has you written all over it, Rogue," he said, low and menacing. "You think the Professor tells you not to do something just because he thinks it's funny?"

"It ain't fair!" she said, her tone not quite up to the spirit in her words.

His eyes widened at her nerve. "'It ain't fair'?! You know what ain't fair? Life, you little punk! You keep fighting it and you'll end up a loser like me. Now one more fit outta you and you're gonna find yourself in a hell of a lot more trouble than you were just in. You know why? Because you won't have nowhere to go that'll look after you and all the grief you cause people who care about you, y'hear me?" He took a long pull at his cigar and blew it out over his shoulder, looking her up and down. When he spoke again his voice was lower. "Listen, alla you get back to the Worthington place. Professor knows you've been giving him grief and the pretty boy might just toss you out on your ass if he has to handle any of this tonight, so you be good from here on out and we won't tell him."

Kurt looked up at him. "Really?"

Logan nodded, stomping out the stub of his cigar on the asphalt. "Yeah, really. But from here on out, you better get it. …We'll finish this at Warren's. Anna, if you so much as speed"-

"I won't, okay?!" she snapped.

He pointed a cautionary finger at her. "I'll be right behind you the whole way." He went over to the big sleek bike and got on while they got into Warren's car and the rumble of the bike took the place of any conversation that might have been made between the three of them.

Once at the house, quiet but all lit up like Anna had left it in case Warren came back before they did, Logan shoved them all into the kitchen so he could have a beer while he resumed his tirade.

Anna pushed her chair back a whole foot when she collapsed herself into it, folding her arms and scowling. Kurt (who had turned off his image inducer as soon as they were indoors) and Piotr took chairs more humbly, watching while Logan opened a bottle and sampled it, leaning against the granite-topped island.

He swallowed and looked at the label, then swung the bottle by the neck as he looked at them. "Even though we're keeping this quiet from the Rich Boy, Cyclops sent me out to get you outta your scrap."

Kurt moaned and slumped.

"Damn right," Logan grunted. "You think I like when he sends me to bail anybody out?" He took a swig of his beer and put it down again. "Thing is he chewed my ear off on how serious this is, and I think you need to know too." He ticked them off on his fingers as he proceeded to list the charges against them. "You disobeyed an order. You stole a car." Here he paused. "I don't wanna hear anything about 'borrowing' because you didn't do any of that. You stole."

Anna grumbled, but a glare from Logan silenced her.

He went on. "You let the whole city know Kurt's a mutant and at least got yourselves branded sympathizers, which around these parts is about as dangerous."

Kurt's heart sank way down. "I am known…?"

"Damn right you're known," Logan said seriously. "Baywood High is gonna be hell for all three of you now that this story's been blasted all over the 11:00 news as a highlight story. Some of those guys had cameras in their phones, hats, hands, wherever the hell they're sticking cameras now. Seem to think it's their duty to out all of us." He leveled a look at Kurt. "And they got you."

Anna's face paled as she looked at Kurt. "I… Kurt…"

Kurt shook his head and smiled at her sadly. "I know you did not mean to, Anna."

He felt Piotr's hand on his shoulder. "We will not abandon you."

Logan grimaced. "You better not. All three of you have one more charge coming. And Ole Blasty Eye about tore his hair out before shouting it at me to tell you."

Piotr blinked. "What is it?"

"If you get too much attention with this stunt and too many folks start looking into the fact you're living at the Institute, you may have given up the whole operation!"

"What?!" Kurt's eyes widened and his tail twitched fearfully.

"The whole institute could be found out, if the Professor can't find and close down anyone who comes sniffing after the trail you'll leave," Logan said, "and then there won't be nowhere for everyone else to go. …and you can kiss the precious X-men goodbye."

That made even Anna pale.

Logan swigged off the last of his beer and took the bike keys out of his pocket again. "Stew on that. I gotta go before Rich Boy gets back." He grinned with a note of menace. "Can't wait to get you three back in training. Enjoy your last few days of summer."

He left the kitchen and before long he was gone.

Kurt looked at his friends. "You know what? I do not feel much like a hero anymore."

"Ah'm sorry, Kurt," Anna said slowly, not looking at him. "Ah didn' think it'd be so serious… ah ruined everythin' for you."

"Hiding who I am is not everything, Anna," Kurt said.

Piotr sat in his chair, frowning to himself. "Those men… I cannot understand them."

"Don't try," Anna said, getting up and throwing away the bottle Logan left on the counter.

Kurt stood too. "They believed they were protecting their home. Well, the first group did at least. We would do the same in their place."

"No," Piotr stood and towered over his blue furred friend. "We would not. They were not noble men. If they were brave, they would go after the mutants who use their powers like weapons, not after those of us who use our powers for good things, for their benefit." He shook his head. "They were irrational and violent, and more a menace to their city than us."

"This," Anna said, walking with them to their rooms, "is why we gotta stick together. Ain't no one gonna understand us unless they're one of us."

Kurt shook his head, rubbing where he was struck once on his shoulder in the fight. "That is not true. I hope it is not true."

Piotr smiled at both of them. "We have friends. We are friends. And we will have our friends at the Institute. We have family there."

Kurt smiled and nodded, feeling a little better. "Yes."

Anna grinned with some of her fiery confidence. "And we'll fight to keep those friends too, no matter what."


	2. Chapter 2 - Cursed

Episode 2: Cursed

"I'll bring whatever you forgot," Warren said, checking the back of the yellow jeep for the fourth time.

Kate placed herself between him and the pile of luggage. "I haven't forgotten anything," she insisted. She couldn't help but smile at his concern for her. "Stop worrying, Warren. Use the time you might have spent worrying about me on calling your dad. He'll eventually learn I'm moving out."

He sighed and shook his head. He wasn't going to call.

"Just figure out a few options," she suggested. His fear was of the deep rooted family kind, one that hurt her to push. "You're an adult, Warren. We both are. I'll call mine first…?"

"No!" he said quickly, then relaxed again, sheepish. "No, Katie, I… I'll talk to him." He smiled, but it was half-empty. "I promise."

She knew he would, but she just didn't know when it would actually happen. Shortly after that she climbed into her jeep and drove off the Worthington Estate and onto the main road.

Kate felt the effects instantly and her grip on the wheel tightened. She felt Warren's cautious, confused love dissipate into the air and distance between them. She clung to even the last wisps of loathing from Anna, suspicion from Kurt, and the sweet unconditional kindness of Piotr. They all slowly dried up.

All the while Kate's heart beat faster and she fumbled for her purse. She'd forgotten the tremors. Her vision blurred, but she couldn't stop the car. "Only a few miles," she told herself.

No one was around. No one. Kate's own hell where, like a desert, there wasn't a breath of fresh air or a dribble of water.

When she lost even the trace of a hiker a half mile from the road, her heart seized with an irregular beat.

She winced and grabbed for the vials in her purse. It had been months since it had been this bad. She had prepared herself, but she could hardly grip the vial.

Finally she closed her trembling fingers around the glass and twisted the cap to expose the vent holes. Kate almost pressed it to her nose as she took a deep breath of it.

Her trembling quieted slightly, her vision straightened, and she took another deep breath.

The vial was of an unassuming pharmaceutical green glass, the kind used in the Worthington Laboratory. Inside was no inhaled drug, no strange medicine, but naturally distilled human pheromones.

Kate inhaled deeply before closing the cap and setting the bottle aside. She wouldn't let it so far out of reach again in the car.

Just to be safe, she turned the radio on and scanned channels for the perkiest song playing. It had been months since she'd been out of contact of people. She only had a 10 minute drive ahead of her to her dream job and a huge collection of company, but the last time she took this drive, she'd had Warren right next to her.

Kate tried to focus on the opportunity she was driving to instead of the painful, panicky constriction she felt in every muscle. Just a few miles and she'd be where she could help more mutant children than she'd ever seen collected in one place. She imagined the challenges they may have had to face.

That morning she had risen early to get ready. She looked at Warren asleep next to her and hoped what they'd talked about the night before would actually work. That he still shared the bed with her that night was surprising, but welcome. She couldn't imagine attempting the lonely drive without it.

He woke while she was doing her make-up.

She looked up to the mirror and saw him there. It killed her willpower when he smiled at her for all the world like a real angel, his massive white wings tucked at his shoulders.

"A little nervous, Katie?" He asked. He held up his trembling hand, showing her that her nerves had overflowed to him.

She blushed and sighed. "Yeah, sorry."

"You'll do fine," he said, coming into the bathroom with her. "Seriously, you're made for this!"

She shot him a scolding look.

"Okay, you're _practically_ made for this."

She knew he didn't understand why this bothered her so badly. Maybe it was his confidence in the idea, or the security he felt in it that frustrated her. "I can still screw this up," she tried to explain, applying her mascara. "A grad student actually getting a position like this is ridiculous." She capped the tube and looked at herself in the mirror. "I feel like I've cheated…" She looked at her reflection and it read young, scared, and trying-too-hard.

"You haven't cheated!" Warren told her, exasperated. He put his hands on her shoulders and she felt his confidence go through her like a shock of warm water. "You're intelligent, passionate, and talented."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"And you're needed, so don't feel like they made this position just for you." He smiled. "Okay?"

He was trying, and she had to give him credit for that. Kate smiled a little. "Okay, fine…"

"Besides, I'll be right behind you." He reached up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, but Kate caught his hand.

"Warren…"

He was embarrassed, sheepish, and a bit disappointed, but Kate couldn't tell if the disappointment was in himself or in general. All she could feel was spikes of negative emotion that went high and then were copied by spikes of shame. "Sorry…" he said. "Habit, I guess. Can't blame a guy, right?"

She couldn't blame him, she decided, as she drove later that morning. How he still had feelings for her after everything she did to him was beyond her. Three months of living together was habit-forming, though. His habits, however, were nothing to be ashamed of, unlike hers.

Kate took another whiff of the pheromones as she drove. Stale stuff. It had none of the roundness or the constant dynamics of real emotion. She didn't tremble or reel, but inside she still felt hollow and hooked up to a vacuum-sealer on high. At any moment she worried her skin would quit screaming over her muscles and just implode already.

She turned the music higher and tried to sing along. Reluctant lungs made it hard, but it helped a little.

The countryside of Westchester County passed by in a tranquil, late-summer blur. This was the land of old money and sprawling estates, private wooded hills and sculpted gardens. If people weren't so sparse, Kate would have taken her time to enjoy the cool air and pleasant breeze. Instead, her yellow jeep left the highway speed limit behind.

She finally felt the little flickers of several emotional currents in the area as she neared the first gate. There were people within two miles now. Kate took in the ripples they made and could breathe easier. Her pulse quieted and her lungs filled easier. She checked the post-it she'd left on the dashboard and used a keypad to open the sliding gate.

From there, she followed a well-worn dirt road through some thick forest growth. It was so quiet she might have felt more discomfort, but she listened to suspicion. Suspicion, when it surfaced, felt like a sour ball in the back of her chest that vibrated at different intensities. "I'll take what I can get," she mumbled to herself, closing the vial of pheromone securely and slipping it back into her purse.

She approached another gate, this one of wrought-iron set in a thick, stately brick wall. By then she could take deep breaths and her heart rate was returning to normal. She looked around and leaned out to buzz the intercom.

It came online with a crackle. "Name?"

Just a voice in real time, communicating it's immense variance of emotion in one syllable, was enough to fill her out. "Oh! Yes, hi! Kate Farnsworth. I should be on the list…"

There was silence for a moment then the gate opened. She made sure to buzz in a "thank you" before driving through.

She drove up a curved gravel drive and took in the amazing house, smiling. It looked like a cross between a cottage and a castle; a beautiful three-storey mansion. The symmetrical wings stretched to either side of a proud central porch and massive double doors.

She parked out front and got out. The air was sweet with the rippling, emotional currents of at least thirty different people on the property. It wasn't at capacity, but it was irresistible to her. She wasn't sure it was allowed, but she climbed the cut stone steps and let herself in.

Within the handsome foyer, Kate stood under the classy chandelier and took a deep breath. A smile spread wide over her face and she closed her eyes, even though the colors were warm and vibrant. With her eyes closed, she could see emotions like colors and textures wash over her and through her. She felt full, satisfied and her energy rose up until she felt like singing. Throughout her body, she could taste and feel the years of its habitation, the residents and the mission of the place. Here were years of safety, sanctuary, security, and… sorrow. She blinked her eyes open at the quiet roll of wheels on the fine wood floors.

"Kaitlyn."

She smiled. "Charles!"

Professor Xavier wheeled his chair to meet her, chuckling. "If you'll forgive me a little indignation, Kaitlyn, it's about time I got you here!" He held his arms open.

She paused. "Is it really allowed? I mean, would it be professional to" –

"Kaitlyn, this is my institution." He smiled, raising an eyebrow. "I decide who is allowed to hug and when."

She felt his voice in her mind immediately after.

"_You could use a friendly touch, Kaitlyn. I'm more than willing."_

She quickly embraced him and felt the last corners of her body relax out of the tension from the drive. A balanced emotion like his, positive, uplifting, and bracing, made her mind clearer, and her muscles feel warm and loose. She released him, smiling. "You really are glad I'm here?"

He sat back in his chair, hands folded and elbows on the arm rests. "Of course! I've been trying to get you here for ten years." He smiled as he looked her over. "How are your powers coming?"

"Great!" Kate felt light on her feet, loose in her limbs, and energized enough that she wanted to shout, but she quelled it carefully. "Sorry. Really well, actually. I've worked up to nearly eight hours without needing a touch. And I drove here all by myself!"

Charles gestured for her to follow down a high ceilinged corridor to the right of the stairs. "Go on."

She followed, walking next to him. "Oh, I also have some medical remedies. The TV and radio help in a pinch."

"But they don't quite satisfy, do they?" He paused at a door and looked up at her kindly. "I'm glad you've been working at it. Now, how would you like to see your office?"

She followed Charles through the door. "I get an office?"

Charles chuckled. "Yes, but this is my office." He crossed the soft rug and stopped behind his desk, rifling through papers.

Kate looked around, tracing her fingers over the edges of an elegant chalkboard. "So you teach too?"

"Yes, though the public schools do the real teaching. We mostly tutor." He chuckled. "I have the privilege of tutoring physics and philosophy… It's the beauty of being the boss. I can teach what I like." He took a file out and set it on his desk before leaning his elbows on his arm rests. "So, Kate. I'm glad you finally stopped trying to fight yourself."

Kate's face burned and she looked down. "After the first two hours of trying to resist on my own it was pretty clear abstinence wasn't the answer. I've done my best to keep as independent as possible and… not hurt anyone."

Charles came back from behind his desk, the file on his lap. "Follow me, Kate."

She did as he led her to a door on the right of his desk. It opened to another office, a smaller space with a window into the back gardens just like the one in his. There were several bookcases that were empty, a fine desk, file cabinets, and a comfortable-looking couch against the wall near a door that obviously led to the main hallway.

"This is your office," the professor said, turning to her.

Kate's eyes lit up. There was a lot of potential here, but before she could open her mouth to thank him, Charles spoke again.

"Kaitlyn, I'm very impressed with how far you've come. You're an intelligent and talented psychologist and you've been very inventive and compassionate in dealing with your challenges." He folded his hands in his lap. "Here I've always worked to help the children in my care do just what you have done. They have regular medical tests, guidance, and instruction on how to develop and use their powers constructively. I also want this place to teach our kind to reach their full potential."

"Don't worry, Professor," Kate said quickly. "I won't give up, you'll see. Before long, I'll have control of it."

He tried to interject, but she just couldn't let him worry about her.

"I'm strong enough to work this out," she said, smiling. "Really. Just being here is doing me good. Since this is the kind of place I've been studying to work in, I'll never be in a position like the last" – she stopped. "Well, I'll never hurt someone else like I did Warren. I can't let that happen."

Charles shook his head. "Kate, you need people, and you don't have to hurt them. You need what they give you." He caught and held her eyes so she couldn't disconnect from his seriousness and concern. "Come with me please."

"But"- Before she could argue, he started to leave the office.

"Come."

She followed him out, feeling partly that she'd been taken to the principal's office and told off. His profile suddenly took on an agitated tremor and she wanted to ask what frustrated him, but as soon as they stepped out they almost ran into warren and the three kids. "Oh!" She felt the mixed reactions hit her from each different direction, a hurricane of feelings extended in her direction and most of them unpleasant enough to make her nauseous.

"What're you doin' here?!" Anna snapped, feeling violated just seeing Kate in the mutant school.

Warren was happy to see Kate, but he frowned at Anna. "Anna, stop that."

Piotr and Kurt stared, dumbfounded, but Kurt quickly showed his dislike of her with a wave of noxious black anger mirroring Anna's.

"She ain't one of us!" Anna retorted. "You ain't one of us," she repeated to Kate, standing between kate, standing between Kate and the other two.

Charles' voice came into Kate's mind as she reeled from the head-spinning mix of needling resentment. "_Be honest, now, Kate. You cannot be ashamed of what you are. Tell them."_

The prospect terrified her, but with his mental push, it came out. "But I am…" her voice was small and strained, and in their temporary silence she repeated it, trembling. "I am one of you. That's why I'm here…"

Warren's pride in her helped keep her knees from buckling. It was like a solid rock to focus on in the middle of her emotions being as erratic and negative as the others'. The three kids were shocked, but Anna recovered first, her fury hotter than before. "You- you lied!"

"Anna," Charles cautioned.

"No!" she shouted over him. "You don't know what it is to be mutant, liar!" Her voice was a hiss and she gave off anger in sickening waves so hard that Kate felt it touch her center so Kate wanted to hate herself, or Anna.

With that, she stormed off, ignoring the efforts of Kurt to stop her. He was bewildered, but his anger was diminished. He was even embarrassed. "I am sorry for my sister, Frau Kate… Please excuse me." He met her eyes once before following Anna. Kate felt guilt from the look and wished she could have told him it was alright, but he left too fast.

"_I'm proud of you, Kate,_" Charles told her mentally.

"So you are a mutant too?" Piotr said, wearing a huge relieved grin. He took her hand in both of his. "This is most wonderful news! I am allowed to like you now!" He gave off a bright, warm flow of sincere relief and pleasure up her arm and straight into her chest to radiate out.

Warren chuckled.

Kate giggled at his innocent excitement, and from the comfort his glow brought her. "I'm so glad, Piotr. I could use friends here."

Charles smiled a little. "You are allowed to like anyone, Piotr. Don't be pressured to dislike humans." He looked at Warren. "I think you should speak to Kurt."

Warren sighed. "I think you're right." He smiled at Kate, proud of her, before he left Piotr there with them.

"Reactions like Anna's, unfortunately, are exactly why your jurisdiction will be the elementary class for now, Kate."

Kate turned to him in dismay. "What? But I thought" –

"Yes, Kate, you are the school counselor, but students here have very sensitive histories. I'm afraid your powers are not honed enough yet to address the majority of our students."

Kate's heart sank. "My powers…? But that has nothing to do with my" –

"Kaitlyn, I want you to grow from this experience. It's not a punishment. Please don't think of it that way."

"Then what is it?"

Piotr looked on in concern. "Can I help?"

Charles smiled up at the tall young man. "No, Piotr, don't worry. Go on and unpack."

Piotr looked at Kate as if for confirmation. The boy was a wonderful mirror, a natural sympathizer, and Kate felt his emotions matching her own which, in her conscience, was probably not the best thing for him. The sweet boy was worried.

She forced a smiled. "Go on, Piotr. I'll be alright."

He nodded and left up the stairs, much quieter than Anna had.

"I want you to grow into your potential, Kate, and I see a lot of potential in you," Charles smiled kindly. "I'm very excited to see how you grow into your position. You'll be the keeper of the files and do some secretarial work until you have regular work with our students. However, before you settle in and I give you the basic tour, I need you to sign these." He handed her the file from his office and a pen.

She took it and scanned the papers. "What are they?"

Charles smiled and she felt an odd flush of pride from him. "A privacy contract, my dear. A necessary prerequisite for any position here at the Institute."

"Oh," she replied, signing. "I can see that. We wouldn't want anyone to blab about the children."

"Among other things…" Charles added quietly.

Kate had just finished signing the final dotted line when a woman arrived from the foyer. She was 20, maybe 21, but she struck Kate as mature for her age. She had long, shiny red hair, was very pretty, but she was unhappy and her emotions were plunging below normal, troubled and almost dark from sadness over something.

"Sorry, Professor," she said. It was like a cloud hung over her. "The news just broke."

Charles sighed. "Well, at least we knew this one was coming."

Kate looked from one to the other. "What happened?"

Charles gestured to the woman. "Kaitlyn, this is Jean Grey."

Kate nodded to her, not feeling this was the time for really making an acquaintance.

The woman nodded back, but her attention was clearly not on Kate. She looked at Charles, her eyes low and resigned. "Three of our students snuck out to the mall last night."

Kate's heart clutched. "What? With all of the riots and protests going on?"

"Yes," Charles said, sadly. "And they were attacked in the parking lot of the theater."

"The men who attacked them haven't been identified," Jean said, "but some of them went ahead and told the newspaper and channel 12 that they were attacked by a mutant and his friends… The anti-mutant feeling is at an all-time high."

Kate nodded uncomfortably. "I can feel that." How could she put a word to that? It was oppressive and stifling, and flowed underneath everything, only souring her palate when there were no other people close enough to override it.

"We'll make an announcement to the children already here," Charles said. "It might be wise to postpone the adoption of more students into the area for the time being."

Jean showed textbook disappointment, a spike in frustration and a plunge of confidence. "Professor…"

"We have no choice. As a safe haven, we have to be able to guarantee that safety or we cannot bring them in." Charles looked up at Kate and smiled a little, the bitterness of his own disappointment clear to her. "There's a small taste of how it is in these times, Kaitlyn. I recommend you dedicate some time to absorbing what you can from the files you now have in your custody."

Kate had no trouble matching their sorrow at the strained situation in quiet little Bayville. "I'll do my best."

Late that next morning, Kate replied to a knock on her new office door with a cheery, "Come in!" As the door opened, Kate looked up and recognized Ororo Munroe from her staff file and she was excited to have a staff visitor.

Mrs. Munroe came in and offered her elegant hand with a friendly smile. "Hello. I am Ororo," she said. "I hoped to meet you yesterday, but there were quite a few things to take care of…"

Kate took her hand. "Call me Kate, please. Was it anything to do with what was on the news?" she asked, hoping to show she knew what was going on around the school.

She nodded, elegant even in discomfort. "Yes… But it's handled now and I hoped to speak to you and thank you for embracing your new position." She smiled a little sheepishly. "We have something to talk about."

Kate smiled. "I'm here to talk, honestly. I just made some coffee. Would you like some?"

Ororo nodded and came in, letting the door close behind her. "I would, thank you." She looked around and Kate poured coffee into two of her brightly painted mugs.

Kate could feel her reactions to the office as she took in all the decorating Kate did overnight. "Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable." She brought the mugs over and sat next to her, smiling. "Do you like it?"

Ororo took her seat and looked around. "It's certainly quite different. Are those toys?" she asked, pointing to a corner.

Kate grinned. "Sure are!" It was a pleasure to feel her surprise and curiosity. Around Kate, since she was so new, there weren't a lot of extraverted emotions like those. Most were self-conscious or distanced.

The office was almost completely unpacked, a chore she had focused on as soon as she could and stuck to it late into the night. She made sure the space was at least scattered with positive things so it could be a sanctuary of sorts. Ororo's eyes had been drawn to a corner to the left of her desk that appeared to overflow with stuffed animals and soft toys.

Kate's guest smiled at the comfortable couch, chairs, and coffee table that were the real focus of the room. The desk and files were beyond the more comfortable space, tucked out of the way but still functional and lit by the windows.

"How did you get so much accomplished since yesterday?" she asked Kate. "There are many things here that were not from your small jeep."

Kate smiled bashfully. "I'm a dreamer, I suppose. I couldn't wait to put this place together just as I pictured my office would be when I got a position like this."

Ororo took a closer look at her and Kate tried to smile her best. "Kate, did you sleep last night?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. Still adjusting to the sounds around here at night, I guess. And don't worry; I didn't bring all of this in myself. Piotr was good enough to lend a pair of very strong hands." Kate knew Ororo still worried. Her attention was still on Kate and her emotions were slowly attempting sync with Kate's sympathetically. Kate feared it was too obvious she hadn't slept at all.

Thankfully Ororo picked up on her discomfort and changed the subject. "I have come, first of all, to offer you a welcome from the staff. I do not think we have ever had someone come to the Institute from outside specifically to work here. Most of us have been here for a year or two as students and simply stayed on to teach. So if you feel any hostility, please do not take it personally… We are just not at all used to outsiders."

Kate could feel her sincerity and she sipped her coffee. "I've picked up on that. It's only my second day, so I'm sure there will be adjustment on both sides."

"You will fit in, soon, I am sure." Ororo patted Kate's hand and the feeling was reassuring and warm. "Now, I have also come over another matter… one a little more personal."

"Oh?" Kate doubted there was a reason for someone so stable to come to her for herself. This woman felt like an ocean of emotional balance and control.

She smiled with mixed pride and self-consciousness. "You had the chance to meet my son yesterday when you had the elementary school visit your office. Azari."

Kate laughed. "Oh! Yes! He's yours?"

Ororo smiled. "Yes, and I believe he is on your list of children to work with. I want you to know he is very excited to see how is … flower turned out?"

"Yes, of course! His is very interesting." Kate smiled and showed her a lineup of white daisies in different vases with colored water. "His is on the end. The brown one. He wanted to see what all of the colors together looked like."

She looked at the set of tall vases and at the flowers. The centers of the petals were taking on little veins of their respective colored waters. "So what is this for? An experiment?"

"Sort of," Kate said. "I used it to explain how my powers work… See, I told the kids I'm an empath. I need emotions the same way that flowers need water. So if there's something happy, I soak it up and am happy, like the flower turns bright yellow." Kate smiled and pointed to a flower with yellow coloring in the vase.

"Fascinating," Ororo said, smiling. "What a unique gift. I have never met an empath. Is it a kind of psychic power?"

"Sort of," Kate said, "but I try not to use it if I can help it. Is there anything you can tell me about Azari that might help me when I start talking to him?" Kate was eager to change the subject away from herself and her powers, and thankfully the mention of her son was enough to focus her attention on that. "I read Azari's file and there are some unfortunate notes from his elementary school teachers…"

"Please do not let their comments overshadow him. Azari's a good boy, really." She glowed with maternal love, a warm and beautiful blend of pride and unconditional receptiveness, and Kate was happy to absorb what she could from it. "Azari's power is not doing him any real favors. We have spoken to Dr. McCoy about his energy, but" – She paused as Kate handed her the cup. "Have you spoken to him? Dr. McCoy, I mean?"

"I haven't met him, though I'd love to. I'm a big fan of his work. What did he have to say about Azari?"

"Not much that could help him at school… Since the children have to go with the human children, I cannot tell the administration my son does not have an attention disorder. Telling them he needs to expend energy every hour would require an explanation… and I cannot tell them he is literally creating electricity."

Kate felt her frustration and helplessness and she took on some of it, and bounced it back to her in order to it sympathetically. "Of course not. That's a very hard position to be in."

"I simply worry he may grow to be as rebellious as they say he is."

Kate smiled. "Don't worry. I'd like to help, and it's a common fear. I'll talk to him today and I'll see what we can do to help him."

She could sense the mother's hesitation to completely trust her. Ororo's emotional profile would grow active then suppress itself when she noticed Kate's sympathy. Kate was sincere, but she never did expect anyone to greet her with complete commitment.

"Thank you," Ororo replied. She set her cup down and smiled with regret. "I really should get going. Thank you for the coffee."

Kate stood with her. "My pleasure."

"If you have any trouble with Azari," she said, standing at the door, "if he is obstinate, resistant, anything… feel free to call me or my husband."

She smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, but I wouldn't worry." She bid farewell to Mrs. Monroe and rubbed her eyes. "Stay awake, Kate," she muttered, finishing off both her and her guest's coffee.

She hated nights generally, but it was pure hell trying to get through a night sleeping alone and in a strange bed. She ended up not sleeping at all that first night, but instead she unpacked the boxes Piotr had helped her bring into her office.

Before she could pick up her pen to continue her paperwork, she changed her mind and collected her coat on her way out the door.

Kate walked to the back foyer and out onto a long stone portico. She could hear voices and feel children out in the manicured grounds, and it filled her through her nerves to the ends.

A small smile spread on her face at the chill in the air. She took a deep breath. Westchester was really breathtaking in August. The gardens practically glowed with vibrant, new fall colors, and the reflecting pool had early red and gold leaves floating on it like little boats. As she drew her coat closer around her against the morning chill, she watched Azari Monroe chase a small rust-colored dog into view. As they circled a tree, both with seemingly boundless energy, Kate was amazed to see the dog suddenly shift smoothly into a laughing rust-haired little girl, racing across the yard without missing a step.

As they raced out of view, Kate smiled to herself. What a place. She walked down the steps and around stone urns filled with crisp-leaved vines. She worked with mutant children since she finished her undergraduate degree in psychology, but none of the children she met were as powerful or emotionally stable as those at XI.

She guessed it was the environment here. Everywhere there was a sincere feeling of care and protection toward the members of the small community. There were low, constant levels of sympathy, receptiveness, and familiarity which were plenty to overcome the sour notes of the immediate town's discord with mutants. However, as she passed where a few of the children were playing, she felt the other side of that environment; suspicion of strangers. The children paused in their game and watched her, a couple of them backing off to keep a distance between them and her.

She flashed them a smiled and continued on. She really couldn't blame them. The news made sure everyone was aware of the public opinion about mutants. First there was the fire at the high school, then the attacks at the mall. At least there wasn't any footage of that, but the damage was done.

Kate heard the rhythm and chatter of a basketball game ahead and as she rounded a bend in the gravel path, she saw three young men at play.

From her long night studying the student files, she was able to recognize the boys as Robert "Bobby" Drake, Alex Summers, and John Allerdyce. Many times, Kate saw mutant children unhealthy whether they were malnourished, or allowed to go to seed with junk food by parents just hoping to make it easy.

These boys, like everyone else she'd met at the Institute, were in peak physical condition. There were few things that pleased her more than to see young people given everything they need to be healthy, happy, and strong.

"Excuse me," she said. "Could you tell me where I can find Amara?"

She felt them grow guarded as Alex, who was taller and had more gold to his hair than the other two blondes, and John, with a surprisingly powerful, incendiary emotional flavor, stood flanking Bobby. These three were close. She could tell because their emotions responded to and checked each other. Kate made a mental note of it. Bobby smirked. "What did you need to know for?"

Kate sensed he had some reason other than his own to be suspicious of her. Her best guess was he'd heard something. The early spike of curiosity gave it away. She simply smiled. "I'm the counselor the Professor hired." They recognized that and got curious; except John who glowered at her. "I need to arrange a meeting with her, but I don't know my way around quite yet. I hoped you could give me a hand?"

"Amara came around here headed to the south field," Bobby said, spinning the ball in his hands. "Some of the others were messing around out there and I think she went to watch. We haven't seen her come back, so she's probably still there."

"The south field…" Kate tried to place it mentally, but shook her head. "How would I get there?"

John smirked. "Didn't you get a map, doc?"

Alex smiled and shoved John's shoulder. "Lay off the new-bie, Pyro." He turned his very charming smile back to Kate. "Head a little ways past here on the path and hang a left at the big rock fountain. The way there is all lined with white gravel."

Kate smiled and put her hands back in her pockets against a chilling breeze. "Thank you, boys. Have fun."

Once she followed the path as Alex described, Kate easily found Amara. Several kids were playing soccer and the young Brazilian girl sat on the sidelines watching. Kate's heart ached for her as soon as she got close enough to feel the heartache and homesickness pierce her heart. It flowed like a frozen stream into her then spread painfully sad, piercing fingers out from her heart.

Kate approached Amara and smiled at her. "Hello."

She looked up and tentatively returned the smile.

Kate took a seat on the grass next to her. "I'm Ms. Kate I've been looking forward to meeting you, Amara."

"Professor Xavier said I might meet you," she replied.

She was fairly open, but shy. Her emotions were muted, but not suppressed and she was actively attempting to recognize Kate's emotion and match it. Kate was pleased to see such a normal reaction to another person. This was the first open, clean slate Kate had and she was pleased she could actually do her job. She watched the game with Amara. "This is a very interesting place, isn't it?"

"Yes," Amara replied. "But very nice, I think."

"This is my first whole day," Kate smiled. "How long have you been here?"

"A week," she said. "I have a few new friends. My roommate is really nice."

Kate grinned. "That's great! Have you heard from your parents?"

That made her smile. "Yes. They are very grateful for the school." Kate was happy to listen to the latest news about the small town in Brazil. She eagerly boosted the girl's emotional profile with curious questions about the warm climate, what grows there, and her family's life.

"It sounds like they're very supportive, Amara," Kate smiled. "It's always hard, though, coming to a new place to live."

Amara nodded. "Especially somewhere so cold!"

Kate laughed; pleased she could make a joke after her recent traumatic experiences. It was promising.

Amara looked at her again. "Are you really a mutant?"

Kate tasted suspicion like she always did. It was bitter and sat down deep in her throat. She smiled honestly, showing her struggle with freely admitting it. "Yes, I am. Believe it or not, Amara, I can be as dangerous as you can under certain circumstances."

Thankfully Amara trusted and feared that admission and Kate comfortably left the subject.

"I actually came to ask if you'd talked to anyone about what happened at the high school just before you came here."

That clammed her up. Amara's aura, her contribution to the emotional ebb and flow, went cold and still as she lowered her eyes and looked away.

Kate touched her shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Amara. It's up to you when you're comfortable talking about it… But I hope you will visit me in my office. We can talk about anything you want and I'd be very happy for the company."

Amara warmed again and some responsiveness to Kate's emotional current returned, but Kate felt it would be too much to push her toward anything now, so she simply smiled before getting up.

"I'm sure you could show them a thing or two about football in Brazil," she said with a wink. "They don't know what they're missing."

Amara blushed and Kate left with a smile.

Xavier's Institute was a small, specialized operation. There were only about fifty students all together, and within range of the mansion, she could feel all of them.

As Kate took her personal walk around the immaculate and luxurious grounds, she took a moment to appreciate the information she got from Amara. It was easy to tell when people were reacting, but not always to what or why. All Kate ever knew was the blend of emotion people were experiencing currently. If they permitted touch therapy, which she rarely recommended or risked, she could get a deeper read and even an emotional memory profile. But she was no telepath. She was at the mercy of what her subject told her. On the plus side, she could find a lie like a fluorescent light at midnight.

Kate strolled around the wide-open grounds, taking in the beautiful views. Locations had emotional traces too. Active emotion, like air, flowed everywhere and Kate just didn't have everyone else's protective shield of ignorance. In locations, the emotions of people who had visited or had lived settled in the earth or on objects of affection or attention. Here, around Xavier Institute, were feelings of trial, confidence, and fun. Security and safety tied it all together.

She drew comfort from the memories; after all it was hard to get the day-to-day profile of the Institute when people were still unsure what to make her. There was time for that, though. Plenty of time.

Kate took her tour into the mansion house. She was mostly familiar with the first floor so she took a walk around the bedrooms on the second floor to satisfy her curiosity.

She heard voices at the end of the hall and smiled when she recognized Bobby's.

"I'm totally gonna make varsity this year!"

Among a general chorus of laughter and talk, Kate heard Kurt's voice answer, "Not when you have never been on the team before, Bobby."

As she got closer to the end of the hall, she saw the corner room of the floor was an open common area.

Piotr was there and was confused. "They say I am a 'senior'. I forget that what is meaning."

A girl whose voice Kate didn't recognize giggled. "Fourth year, Piotr."

Kate paused at the door when she heard Anna, but she couldn't help smiling at the different profile coming off her. She was high above normal levels of contentment, and was receptive to the others, pleasant and friendly.

"You couldn't make varsity in anythin' but detention, Bobby boy," she laughed and enjoyed the laughter of the others.

Bobby took it with a smile. "You'll be eating your words when I'm a starter for the Baywood Beagles!"

"For their sake," Anna teased, "Ah hope you're not expectin' t'try out for basketball."

The other laughed appreciatively and the friendship was like warm, sustaining waves pulsing through Kate's chest. She decided to see what they could do to help her.

Kate knocked on the open door jamb and looked in. "Hello?" It was amazing to her to feel the emotional current suddenly scatter into a mess of conflicting currents.

Piotr positively beamed. "Hello Ms. Kate!" He started to stand, but Kate held up a hand.

"It's alright, Piotr, you don't have to get up."

Piotr happily stayed put on the soft couch. "Everyone, this is my friend, Ms." –

Anna was much less happy to see her and locked herself up behind a frown. "We all know who she is, Piotr."

Kurt hesitated a second, his blue devil tail swishing a bit as he sat atop the couch, but he worked up a small smile and met Kate's eyes briefly. "Good morning, Frau Kate…"

She returned the smile, showing she recognized the remorse she felt from him. She would have preferred to simply move on and feel receptive openness, but remorse didn't absorb into everyone the same way it did Kate. "It's a pleasure to see you, Kurt. The real you. I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you're a handsome young man." She was pleased to see the image of him that matched his picture in the files.

Kurt was surprised, but didn't have time to dwell since Bobby grinned and punched him in the arm.

The girl on the couch next to Piotr, who Kate could now see was Kitty Pryde, leaned forward eagerly. "So you're Kate!" She was a sweet-looking brunette, and she gave Kurt a playful glare and flicked his knee sharply. "You didn't do her justice at all Kurt. She dresses way cuter than you said." She sat up and smiled at Kate, curious to the point that it was obvious she heard some gossip. "Sooo… Where did you find that jacket? It's fantastic!"

Anna rolled her eyes and tucked her feet up into her chair in the corner. In a moment she had her phone open and was texting which seemed to improve her mood substantially.

Kate smiled at them hopefully. "Charles also told me I ought to spend some time with Tildie Sohmes. There are some frequent disturbances on her file… 'Complications with nightmares', it said. I was hoping you all could tell me a little more about them?"

"I saw one just before we were to leave to live at Mr. Warren's house," Piotr said, his broad shoulders slumped. "In the middle of the night, there was screaming and Kurt appeared in my room to wake me. We ran outside to see a flying beast glowing in the sky, as big as a house!"

Kate could tell he wasn't lying, but it still sounded unbelievable. "Tildie?"

"Yes. Her nightmares become real!" Piotr said. "We fought for half of an hour to defeat the monster and release her." He wrung his hands, elbows on his knees. "She was so terrified, but it was the only way to wake and release her from the monster."

Kate's eyes widened as she felt the regret coming off all of them.

"It's not that we want to scare her more," Bobby said quickly. "It's the only way we have to stop the nightmare once it takes shape. Not even Charles can stop one of Tildie's nightmare episodes unless she's distracted enough by us." He shrugged, obviously more used to the circumstances than Piotr. "A lot of times we can tell what gave her the nightmare, though, and that helps."

"We try hard to keep Tildie from being scared in the day so she doesn't have the nightmares," Kitty explained. "We use that plan for a lot of us here. I phase through the floors sometimes when I sleep, so I've learned to sleep on my side." She shrugged. "It helps a little. I can catch myself when I first feel my arm start to phase."

Kurt nodded. "For Tildie we do our best to monitor what she watches on television, on movies, and in our practices. Anything may disturb her and give her a nightmare."

Kate sat down next to Bobby on a couch facing Piotr, Kitty, and Kurt. "How does that make Tildie feel? I can see how she might struggle, hearing "no" all the time. How does she take to the special rules?"

Anna suddenly stood and shoved her phone in her pocket, blasting out noxious currents of hostility, resentment, and insult. "Special rules?! Everyone here has special rules, dammit. The world ain't no picnic for any of us, and even though XI ain't a party for us, it's a hell of a lot better than anywhere else."

Everyone watched as Anna finally tore her glare from Kate and stormed out.

Kate took a shaky breath as soon as Anna left the room. She felt like a fish plucked out of a poisoned pond and dropped into cold water, fighting to take in anything but the toxins of hate.

"I am sorry, Ms. Kate," Kurt said quietly. "My sister is just sensitive. She" –

Kate smiled gently, grateful for his sudden kind feeling. "It's alright, Kurt. I understand. I went through the files for this school year and I saw her power. I can see how my question might have offended her. Honest, I didn't mean it."

Piotr sighed. "It is hard for her to be not able to touch others."

"Unable, Piotr," Kitty said kindly.

Kate cleared her throat. "Where would the younger kids be now?"

Piotr stood up. "I will show you, Ms. Kate! Tildie will be there."

"Thank you, Piotr, I appreciate it." Kate smiled and stood. "A pleasure to meet you all." She followed Piotr out into the hall and down the main staircase, enjoying his friendly presence as they walked.

When Kate saw the elementary class the day before, they had come to her office. Now she stood in the elementary room with the six children under 12 that lived in the Institute. They were playing, studying, and helping each other. The fun made Kate feel light and cheerful, her heart speeding up gently in response to their activity level. She smiled when the teacher came to greet them. "Ms. Moonstar," Kate said, "I hope you don't mind me dropping in this way."

"Dani, please. You are more than welcome here. Charles told me you might be coming to address Azari and Tildie."

"That's my plan," Kate smiled.

She turned to the class. "Alright, everyone, you remember our friends?"

The kids all looked up and, in a broken chorus, greeted Kate and Piotr by name.

Piotr glowed with pleasure when the class of about seven children said his name. "The game you play is fun. Maybe you may teach me to play too?"

All seven immediately folded him into their games, completely thrilled to have the eighteen-year-old, mountain of a teenager playing with their toys.

Dani was thoroughly amused and smiled before turning back to Kate. "Now what can I do for you?"

"I'd just like to spend some time here observing and talking to them. It can be really hard to get a read on children when they're taken out off their routine."

Dani nodded. "I always appreciate an extra pair of hands with this crew."

Kate laughed. "I can believe that. Now, Tildie didn't come to my office yesterday did she?"

"No," Dani said, voice low. "The professor thought it would be safer if the others prepared her for meeting you later. She" –

Kate nodded. "I heard. Do new things set her off?"

"Sometimes." Dani looked at the classroom and nodded to the little seven or eight-year-old girl playing apart from the others. "That's Tildie. None of us really knows how to keep it from happening. I try to help. My power is similar, but then my dreams manifest, they usually have a purpose. Hers…" Dani shook her head.

Kate thanked her and went over to where Tildie was coloring. She was a sweet-faced girl with auburn hair. When she looked up at Kate, it showed she had a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks.

"Tildie?" Kate looked down at her, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ms. Kate," she said kindly. "Can I play too?"

Tildie was cautious, but she slowly nodded and made room at her little table. "'K." The little girl's aura fluctuated in an odd, damaged way, each rise of excitement dropped by rises in worry and fear.

Kate knelt down and took the crayons she was given. After a few minutes coloring and talking about the picture Tildie was coloring, Kate saw she was doing less self-regulating and the currents were smooth. "Tildie?"

"Yeah?" she was giving a princess outline blazing red hair.

"Why aren't you playing with the other kids?" Kate was catching a lot of strange emotions off of the little girl. She was at least seven, but her emotions led Kate to put her maturity level lower. In a child around 8, Kate expected to feel a growing consistency in how they chose what balance of emotions to show. Tildie felt under that age, where her balance of emotion was erratic, but clearly aware of the fact that some emotions are good and some are bad. It seemed she was mistakenly suppressing some of the good ones as well.

Tildie kept coloring as they talked, covering the background in blues. She shrugged. "They act funny to me. They treat me different."

Kate felt the hurt Tildie felt, but there was such a chill of hopelessness to it that it made her sure Tildie knew why they were all doing it. The little girl feared herself.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"People do the same thing to me, too, when they learn what I do."

Tildie gave her such a look that no skill was required to figure out she was skeptical.

"Really," Kate assured her, coloring on her picture of a puppy with polkadots. "It seems people don't always like someone knowing how they feel about everything."

Tildie seemed convinced because shortly after that, she asked, "Do people tell you some things are too scary? In case of nightmares?"

Kate had to think how to answer that simply. "Sometimes. Nights are very hard for me too, Tildie. Every night is hard. Sometimes I have nightmares, and… sometimes I can be dangerous to people. I never mean to, of course." Kate let the little girl see she was really embarrassed and frightened of it. She tried to convince herself she was faking for Tildie's sake.

"It makes me feel like a monster," Tildie said. "They all keep scary things away, but they can't keep me away… I'm the scariest thing of everything."

Kate tried to keep coloring, but she recognized that feeling too well. "I understand…"

Tildie went quiet, coloring slowly with a brown crayon.

Kate hated to see such a sweet little girl shackled by her own talent this way. After a few moments with her crayon suspended over the paper, Kate suddenly set it down and smiled warmly at Tildie. "You know what?"

Tildie looked at her in surprise, a smile growing on her face from the excitement Kate was giving off to cheer her. "What?"

"I think there are lots of fun things you can try. Tildie. Lots of fun and new things to do. You shouldn't be afraid, sweetie," Kate said, tucking a curl of her auburn hair behind her ear. "You have every right to enjoy yourself as everyone else."

Tildie's eyes got big and flickered with hope. "Really?"

"Absolutely. No one can really stop nightmares, but we can make good things to dream about, right?" Kate smiled and stood up. She offered her hand to Tildie. "What do you say we go play with the others?"

Tildie hesitated a moment, but took Kate's hand and giggled. She felt like she was breaking some rule, but one she'd always wanted to.

It took a few minutes, but Tildie was soon included in the class' activities. Although Piotr left as soon as games were done, Kate stayed to support Tildie. Some of the time the little girl even sat on Kate's lap. Kate loved every second and gently pushed her to participate in what she was interested.

Story time excited her and she sat on the rug with the others, riveted, but one little boy couldn't sit still or keep quiet. Kate instantly recognized Azari Monroe.

The dark-skinned, six-year-old firecracker kept standing and acting out what he believed the story should say. "If I saw a meanie like that, I'd punch 'em like this! And kick him all hard an' everything! Like daddy does and" –

Dani lowered the book quickly as one little girl, the shape-shifter who turned into a dog earlier, barely ducked a swing of his little fist. "Azari! Stop that right now. No one can hear what the story is about until you sit down and listen with everyone else."

Kate felt the energy in him but everyone else could too. The little boy was practically sparking between his fingers. What concerned Kate most was his frustration. He was energetic, and not meaning to do wrong but he did show healthy levels of remorse when scolded. Unfortunately that did nothing for his rising energy levels.

He tried to sit but before Dani could even lift the book again, Azari was up and grabbing a toy plane whose propeller whizzed along at the touch of his electric powers.

Dani kept glancing at Kate, clearly glad someone else was seeing this, but embarrassed at her lack of control. "Azari!" she said sharply. "Sit down, right now!"

The other children fidgeted uncomfortably while Azari ran circles around them, flying the plane with his hand. Tildie watched uncertainly and looked at Kate, squirming.

Kate stood up and caught Azari's hand. "Hey, let's go fly that outside. What do you say?"

Azari tore his hand away, dropping his toy. "I'll be good! I'll be good!" He certainly knew what being in trouble looked like. He spiked with fear and remorse, backing away.

"Come on, Azari, we'll just go outside." Kate firmly clamped a hand on his shoulder and steered him out the door.

The little boy finally stopped pulling away from her, but instead had to vent another way. "Don't take me to Mom and Dad! I can be good, promise! Promise promise!" He grabbed her hand and pulled, but she knew this was no tantrum. A tantrum child would be angry, violent, and feel a glee from others' attention.

"I'm not taking you to your parents, Azari. I told you, we're going outside."

Just walking instead of sitting was easing him a little and he watched her with childish skepticism. "Yeah? Why?"

"You'll see," she gave him a smile which confused him more, but he did follow, chattering like he couldn't be silent if he tried.

Once outside, Kate picked up a soccer ball from a shed.

"Whazzat for?" he demanded, watching her. "You're a girl. Girls don't play soccer. We don't play in class time."

"Well, we're gonna play now." Kate bounced the ball back and forth on her knees a few times before kneeing it up to catch it. She offered the ball to the shocked six-year-old. "Want to?"

Azari jumped at the chance and after a few minutes he had healthy levels of positive feelings, and reduced energy levels. She easily brought him back in for more class time. Every few minutes, she stepped in and took him to the play area where he could vent some of his abundant energy.

She met with Dani again after the very full day with the elementary.

"Azari's never gotten so much from class," she told Kate. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing, really. He's a good and smart kid. I think his mutation translates into more energy than he can contain." Kate smiled. "I think we can figure out some things he can do to vent and keep focused. We just need to make sure it's documented for when he goes to Baywood Elementary with the others."

"Discreetly, of course?" Dani asked.

Kate nodded slowly. "Of course." She sighed. "It would be so much less difficult if mutations didn't have so many social repercussions."

Dani raised an eyebrow. "Everything would be less difficult if that were true."

That evening Kate sat in her office opposite Charles, finishing her report of what she'd accomplished that day. "And I think Azari would do much better with a five minute break between recess times."

Charles smiled, his hands folded across his lap. "It sounds like a very reasonable solution, Kate. I'm very glad you got to meet Amara, Tildie, and Azari. You've made quite the impression on them."

"Thank you, Professor," Kate beamed. To her surprise, he turned his teacher's eyebrow on her.

"And what has been your experience today, Kaitlyn?" he asked gently. "How are you feeling?"

Being asked that made her feel uncomfortable, but she knew he only meant well. "I'm happy to say I feel healthier than I have in a long time. I feel satisfied and full… well not quite full, but I think it will take some time before I'll be… 'nourished', I guess is how I would describe it."

He nodded slowly, observing the daisies on her table and the spreading color on the petals. "Yes, that would be an apt description." He looked up at her again. "I was impressed with how you handled your discussion with Tildie. You related to her, Kate."

Kate looked down, kicking herself for even considering being so guarded in front of such a powerful psychic and a man she desperately wanted to impress.

"Kate?"

She felt he wasn't disappointed in her, but she was still reluctant as she nodded. "Yes. I do relate to her a little. I can't help it, especially after what's gone on between me and Warren."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't want to have to compromise on her standards and she quickly told him so.

"I'll be in control, Professor, I promise. I know I can, and all I need is a few more days." Kate desperately tried to read him for confidence in her, and she found it though not as much as she hoped.

He nodded quietly, appearing to bite his lip to refrain from giving his prepared comment. "I understand. Tonight will be hard, just as it was yesterday. I highly recommend you use this evening to unwind and connect with the other staff members." He smiled encouragingly. "You know very well how much a support system can help in building a career and a life. That's what we're all here for."

Kate relaxed a little and nodded. "I understand, Professor."

She took his advice right away and eventually found Danielle was willing to go out on the town.

Kate did enjoy herself. Bar-hopping awhile and making a few new friends made her feel better. It did her so much good to laugh and joke and be around large numbers of laughing and joking people. Exposure to a wide variety of auras and emotional currents was enough to make her feel full and satisfied. For that time she wouldn't have to think about who was where, how many people were around, and she could let her own emotions play a part.

Unfortunately she knew the merriment couldn't last. It wouldn't even keep, not even an hour after she returned to the Institute.

Kate kept company until the others started turning in for the night. She thought briefly about going to her office, but she yawned so wide her jaw ached. Checking her watch, she realized miserably that she hadn't slept in 42 hours.

"I've got to at least try," she sighed to herself and climbed the main stairs. From there she walked down a hall to another set of stairs to the third floor.

The mansion was at capacity as far as bedrooms were concerned. She knew the professor wanted to help as many troubled mutant children as possible. Many of the instructors had bedrooms at the back of the mansion on the second and third floors. Since Kate came as a new addition, her room was on the north end in the corner, a small bedroom with only one window where most rooms had two. Many of the teachers lived in suites.

Kate was told this room was occasionally used to help troubled new students adjust to good treatment, new people, and three square meals a day. If she didn't know for certain all the other rooms were full, she would have been a little uncomfortable with what that implied.

It was an hour after lights out as she walked down the dark hallway. She slowed her steps, heart racing. She saw a shadow between her and the dimly lit window, giving off a low mix of worry, love, hurt, and resignation. Her voice gave away how afraid she was. "Hello? Who's there?"

"Katie?"

Kate relaxed, but only a little. "Warren? What are you doing? You should have gone to bed by now!"

He met her at her door, his wings tucked behind him but rustling a little in the silence. "You should have too, and last night."

Kate's cheeks flushed and she frowned, not only frustrated at the comment but also mad at his concern for her. It was coming welcoming, so receptive, mirroring her with such sympathy that it was too tempting. "Where did you hear that?"

"We work for a psychic, remember?" He took a step toward her, but she took a step back so she wouldn't be more tempted to siphon him for her swiftly dropping emotion levels. He paused. "I just want to know how you're doing." He put his hands in his pockets, disappointed but still very receptive to her. "And, I guess, to congratulate you on your day." He wanted her to come to him, she knew it.

Kate swallowed hard, dying to even grab his arm and establish the connection she was used to having each night, the flow between them of every emotion from glee to despair. Instead she steeled herself and cleared her throat quietly. "Thank you, Warren. And I appreciate your concern. Honest. I'll be alright though. I'm tired enough to sleep through anything." She was glad not everyone saw lies as clearly as she could.

He looked at her carefully. "I'm not so sure it matters how tired you are."

Kate sighed, frustrated. He clearly couldn't see how she was trying to protect him, how she was trying to sever this relationship. She was tired of him bouncing back even when he was so justifiably suspicious of her. "Just let me sleep, warren," she frowned, trying to get by him to her door. He blocked her.

"Kate, you know how you are when you wake up," he said, worrying for her. "You're pale, and fumbly, and kinda frantic…"

Kate, when she couldn't get by, looked up at him, done with this and cranky. "Warren!"

"You're not well when you sleep alone!" he insisted and she had to look away, frustrated since he knew her so well. He snuck a hand to her cheek and she felt herself desperately seek his internal emotional current. "I could stay tonight? If you need it?"

She could feel his current, strong and warm, full of all of the minute emotions he felt that day and more. She wanted so bad to raise some to the surface to share… but inside she screamed at herself in reproach. She pulled herself away and tried hard not to look at him. "No. I'll be fine, Warren. Don't worry about me! You don't have to sacrifice to fix me, okay? In a place like this I'm perfectly capable of making it through one night alone."

He frowned, taking offense. "But it's not just one night, not if you're staying to" –

"If I don't push myself, I'll never get through this!" she snapped. She regretted it and settled. "I'm sorry, Warren."

Warren was stung and looked away. "I'm sorry too." He looked back at her, gaze full of sharp bits of hurt for which she took whole responsibility. He held his arms open. "Just one? To tide you over?"

Kate sighed and nodded. She hugged him, but there was no romance in it. She knew some of it had been real, in the beginning, and it was always hard to feel love die. Instead she absorbed only regret, remorse, and pain, but it did fill her with a temporarily sustaining drop or two of emotion.

He let her go soon after and she went into her room feeling more satisfied, but colder and more alone than before.

She dressed in warm pajamas and lay in her chilled sheets. Only her deep breathing reminded her what relaxation was supposed to sound like.

As the minutes ticked by, Kate found it harder and harder to breathe. It was helpful to feel the dulled emotion of dreaming children, but it felt so far away. It was far too hard to continue siphoning emotion from down the hall, and relax enough to sleep.

After half an hour her lungs burned and her muscles ached like a solid cramp. Forcing herself up, she grabbed a big plush toy and fumbled in her purse. Her fingers refused to grip the pheromone bottle, but she managed to open the vented lid and dab the powerful scent onto the stuffed dog's collar. Gripping the toy, she managed to drift into an uneasy sleep, her cheek pressed into the fur and the bottle clutched half an inch from her nose.

Just as she felt her mind fixing on something other than the black back of her eyelids, she felt from somewhere in the mansion a cold tidal wave of fear suffocate her and she sat up with a gasp. Her room was empty and still, but Kate felt it full of surreal terror and confusion. Everyone in the mansion was awake and felt huge urgency about something, something serious.

Kate listened to the aggressive, oppressive fear and she heard a scream. She paled. "Tildie!" She grabbed her robe and ran out and down the hall past others who were running downstairs to stare out any window they could find.

The staff and high school level students were assembled outside and Kate ran out toward them. Before she could call out to them, she froze, staring. "Oh my God!"

Like the grisly product of a muddy rainbow boiled down with mud and anger, a monster as tall as the mansion itself heaved its translucent bulk toward them, crushing the turf down at least two inches under its clawed feet. It was built like a glob of muck with beefy arms and legs, but it was oddly see-through with the surface of its body sliding over itself like the filmy shimmer of filthy oil on water in the middle of a dingy parking lot. It turned just enough for Kate to see its eyes were as bright as a truck's headlights on bright.

Kate panicked and stared, not only because she had never seen anything like it, but because she felt Tildie inside that creature, being consumed by fear, frustration, and caught in the grip of a terrifying nightmare. She was also terrified to see many of the students using their powers against Tildie's monster, like they said.

Warren saw her and pointed to the house. "Kate, get back inside!"

Charles' voice carried and she caught a few words. "Bobby, Piotr, make sure to attack after Kitty and Kurt have coaxed her far enough from the walls. We can't have another collapse."

Ororo, who was no doubt the cause of a dense cloud cover, watched the kids dash off. "Where could Tildie have come up with a monster like that?"

Kate ran toward Charles, feeling Tildie's anger and fear grow to higher intensity, the monster roaring and shying from the eight powerful mutants pushing it away from the mansion. "What are you doing?!" she demanded, eyes riveted on Tildie as Bobby blasted ice under her feet, attempting to bring her down.

"Go inside, Kaitlyn. She's not being hurt. Trust us, please." He watched carefully, clearly giving orders for which he needed to concentrate.

"You're terrifying her!" Kate felt the scared little girl in the monster, humiliated and thoroughly upset. She watched the others strike, dodge, and attack. Each time the team scored a significant hit, the beast shrank some. Though it appeared to be succeeding in stalling the creature, Kate could feel a sudden rush of concentrated fear from the depths of the monster. It only struck with hands, feet, and loud roars. Kate blinked in surprise when she realized the monster had no teeth. "It feeds on fear! Charles, it feeds on fear!"

Charles was tuned into the team and didn't answer.

Kate got between him and the others, holding his shoulders. "Let me help! I know how to help!"

"Kate!" he said, serious. "This is not a safe place."

"I have a plan!" she insisted, "I do!"

Charles paused and Kate felt him poke around in her mind. He nodded quickly. "Alright. If you're sure."

Warren landed next to them. "What is it, Professor?" He looked at Kate, stunned to see her still there and suddenly intensely worried. "You should be inside!"

"She can help. Don't let the others stop it," Charles said. "Quickly!"

"Warren, fly me to Tildie," Kate demanded, standing in position and yanking his arms around her.

He took off on Charles' orders, holding her securely. Kate's belly lurched when he flew her, but her eyes were fixed on Tildie.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, keeping a safe distance from the monster.

Kate felt the others take notice, but their shouts weren't loud enough to be heard over Tildie's embodied nightmare. She could, however, feel Piotr's terror and dismay like a rope pulling her back to earth.

"Get me closer! Closer, Warren!"

"What are you going to do? Kill it with kindness?!" he demanded, only inching closer when she wanted him to dive at Tildie.

"Closer!"

Warren got just close enough and Tildie's nightmare locked onto her, snatching her from Warren.

Kate felt like a ragdoll with motion sickness, swung around in the monster's claw 20 feet above the ground. It was plenty easy to scream with as much fear as she could muster, but Kate did something she rarely did… she collected up the fear coursing into her from the monster and concentrating it. With a scream she directed a blast of it right back into its source.

Tildie's monster whipped its head around and roared into her face, blasting her with breath that made her choke. Suddenly Kate was plunged into the monster's mouth and everything went black.

Kate opened her eyes and saw a battle again, but it was different than the one she'd just left. Things swam in space, as if in a snow globe. Looking up, Kate could see the faces of Charles and Jean tapping on the glass making a deafening pound with each tap, so loud she had to cover her ears as hard as she could.

Below her Kate saw everyone from the mansion surrounding something, milling around in a loose circle.

Willing herself down, she passed straight through them, finding they were completely oblivious to her and immaterial at that. She walked completely through Kurt and Bobby as if they were no more than fog, and once past them she could see over the inner ring of the children of the mansion pointing, yelling, and running away.

There, in the center, was a miniature version of Tildie's nightmare monster. This, however, was Tildie in the flesh.

"Leave me alone!" she wept, covering her eyes with the rotund, drippy monster's hands. "I won't hurt you! Lemme go!"

Kate felt the little girl's terror and humiliation soak into and saturate the soft parts of her gut, weighing her down and making her heart ache with its weight. Taking her hands off her ears, braving the terrible pound of the psychic's probing, she ran to Tildie and threw her arms around her. "Tildie!"

She opened up her heart and let in all of Tildie's built up terror, shame, and humiliation. She let the connection, the shared current of feeling, establish between them, mutually feeding and reciprocating. Taking in Tildie's suffering, Kate fed in all of the affection and sympathy she had for the girl, giving her love and positivity.

Tildie relaxed in her arms and finally could cry. Kate, however, felt her face burn, her mind spin, and her heart race, weeping right along with the little girl. "I'm here, Tildie! Everything's gonna be okay. You're not a monster, Tildie. You're not alone!" Overwhelmed with the shared tears, she felt Tildie hug back and she dug deep for her sympathetic current, wrapping the little girl in it as best she could.

Kate felt hands on them, rubbing her shoulder. Voices came to her ears muted at first, but soon they cleared and she recognized them.

"Katie! Katie, are you alright?!" Warren asked, desperate.

"She has rescued Tildie," came Piotr's stunned, but smiling voice.

Even Scott chuckled. "Never would have thought it… She did pretty good."

Kate looked up, surprised to find she was on her knees in the grass and surrounded by the other staff members. Tildie was in her arms, her face buried in Kate's soft robe. Kate stroked Tildie's hair and pressed her cheek against it carefully. "Look, Tildie! It's over!"

Charles wheeled over to them and dispersed the crowd. "Give them some air, everyone." He smiled at Tildie. "Feeling better?"

She blinked away tears. "I'm sorry, Professor. I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry, my dear, don't worry at all." He looked up to the others. "Students, thank you for your help. Go on back to bed, please."

They left with each feeling differently about the experience, but Kate held Tildie still and felt only the evening measures of emotion as she responded to her exchange.

"What you did was really reckless." A man said, his arms folded across his chest, but Kate could feel surprise and some small receptivity related to respect. She instantly recognized Scott Summers from his file.

"Scott, stop," Jean said gently. "You were wonderful, Kate. We all appreciate it."

Warren was as much relieved as mad. "You could have figured some way of doing it safer, Kate."

Charles shook his head. "Are you alright, Kate?"

Warren turned on him. "Of course she's not alright! She just got eaten! Or was I the only one who saw that?!"

Jim Logan, another staff member Kate had to recognize from their picture, chuckled. "You got one impressive death wish, Doll."

"Listen!" Kate stood, letting Tildie hold her around her waist as she stood straight. "I find it hard to believe that after this long you've overlooked that Tildie is more scared at everyone being afraid of her than anything else!"

"Ms. Kate?" Tildie said quietly.

She looked down at her and stroked her hair, giving the little girl a warm smile. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You had a pretty bad night, didn't you?"

Tildie nodded, feeling understood and loved. Her little smile warmed Kate all the way through.

Kate knelt down on one knee and petted her cheek. "You know what? I didn't have a good night either."

"Really?" she asked. "Nightmares?"

Kate shook her head. "I couldn't sleep at all. Tell you what, how would you like to come sleep in my room with me?"

Tildie's smile widened. "And I won't have nightmares?"

"We'll try it for a few nights. While you're with me, I promise, no nightmares." Kate smiled. "Cross my heart!"

"Okay!"

Kate stood up, feeling approval all the way around from the staff, especially Charles and Warren. Without waiting any longer in the dark night chill, she took Tildie inside and up to her room.

With the little girl hugging a plush toy and held in Kate's arms, Kate felt a sweeter, gentler connection than she'd experienced before. There was no deceit, no struggle, and no guilt. Tildie willingly shared Kate's aura, receiving from it security and rest, while happily offering Kate a well of sustaining emotion to balance out and absorb. She couldn't feel a bit of hungry strain in her body and she could breathe with ease and comfort.

Once Tildie was asleep, Kate heard Charles' voice in her head. "_You have no more to be ashamed of than Tildie, you know._"

Kate smiled wryly, thinking an answer. "_Oh really?"_

"_Really. It's never an easy thing to accept when you have to rely on others. Some struggles, like yours and Tildie's, have very simple, obvious solutions… though unorthodox_."

Kate smiled hesitantly. "_Like Tildie only needing a hug?_"

Charles had a way of communicating a smile without anyone there to see it. "_Smart mouth. Kaitlyn, I don't want to see any of my students try to make it through tough spots alone_."

"_I thought I was staff, Professor_."

His voice in her head was gentle and kind. "_All of my staff are still my students. No one ever outgrows learning who they are and what they can do. Kaitlyn, you have a wonderful gift and, unfortunately, it can feel like a curse. So can many others. There is no shame at all in accepting natural solutions._"

Kate let that sink in, watching Tildie sleep peacefully in her arms, willingly sharing her soft, sleepy satisfaction.

"_Getting what you need to be healthy doesn't have to mean hurting or deceiving someone. Sometimes all you have to do is ask for a little help_."

Kate nodded slowly, hoping that would be the truth. "_I feel so confused_."

"_Sleep for now, Kaitlyn. Good night and we're very happy to have you."_


	3. Chapter 3 - Exalted

Episode 3: Exalted

The last ten minutes of the school day were Pietro Maximoff's nemesis. He prided himself on having a lot of enemies, but time was always the one he couldn't beat. For him, who could run on the edge of the speed of sound, and whose father was the most politically powerful mutant on the planet, the world just moved too slow.

He checked the clock again and swore under his breath. How much more could this man say about the Declaration of Independence? His gaze shifted around the room as he thought. All men aren't created equal; the mutant gene made some far better than others, thank God. If that didn't make the ideal a farce, the recent hate crimes against mutants through the first two weeks of school shot plenty of holes in the notion of equality.

He looked at the clock and swore again. His knee started to bounce subconsciously and he focused on tearing graded homework into little balls. Kurt Wagner set the normally quiet suburb of Bayville against mutants. A couple of days before school started, he had been idiot enough to get caught with his blue devil's tail out for the world to see. Everyone knew Pietro and his crew were mutants. He was no friend to cowards who hid from who they were.

With a stock of spitballs, Pietro shot one into the hair of another closet mutant. Bobby Drake shot a glare at him, but Pietro gave a grin and waved mockingly. Cowards, all of them. Running together, going straight from school to Xavier Institute, they were nothing. Not Pietro, not his group. They didn't hide, they took on haters all the time and sent them running.

When Bobby turned back around, Pietro grinned at his twin sister next to him for approval, but she hadn't been paying attention. Wanda sat calmly filing her nails, her shorts showing off her legs and expensive shoes. Unlike Pietro, she had wavy brown-red hair, and enjoyed good grades in school. She did, however, look over sympathetically at his thrumming knee which was now bouncing in a blur.

He looked up at the clock, feeling that at any moment he was going to explode his skin. Ten seconds… Five… When the bell rang he was out the door so fast it made the papers in the waste bin fly two in the air.

Freedom after classes was so fantastic, he couldn't explain. When he sat still too long every fiber in him told him to run, and run fast. He returned to the classroom after a lap around campus. He had hardly missed anything and met Wanda on the way out.

She grinned. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah!" he said, leaning on the wall. Bobby and the other XI kid in their class, John, were meeting up with the rest of their group. He looked at Wanda. "So good I think we should see the new 'mutant lovers'!"

She sighed and frowned. "Pietro, don't."

"Too late!" He laughed and zipped over to the XI kids, running into the back of Bobby's shoulder.

"Hey!" Kurt shouted, helping Bobby regain his balance.

"Aw, look who's finally come out!" Pietro said. "So what, you gonna hang out with us now? Come one, join our side, Kurt. You know we stand together instead of burying our heads in the sand."

"Sand?" Piotr asked. He looked at John who just shook his head instead of explaining.

"Shut yer trap, Pietro!" Anna said.

"It goes both ways, Rogue," Pietro snapped. "You left us, joined them… even your saintly brother can leave you for us!"

Bobby frowned. "Get lost and you won't get your butt kicked."

Pietro zipped right up to whisper in his ear. "Not easy being a 'mutant lover' is it?" He zipped away to Anna next. "All the gossip, the looks, the vandalism" –

Anna took a stomp at his foot, but he was too quick.

He was right back at Bobby. "Are you mutant lovers our friends now? You love us now, do you?"

Kurt frowned. "Leave us alone, Pietro!"

Wanda caught Pietro's arm. She was the only one who could. "Let's go. They've had enough."

John grinned. "Yeah, listen to your pretty sister, Speedy."

Pietro grimaced at him and then looked at Kurt. "Things'll just get harder, Nightcrawler," he said. "When it gets hard enough, you come to us."

Wanda gave Kurt a warm smile. "Our door is open… to you." She winked at him and Pietro frowned.

"You'll get old waiting for that," Bobby growled. "Come on guys, the bus is waiting."

Pietro stayed with Wanda while they walked down the hall, surrounding Kurt protectively.

"What was that about?" Pietro snuck an evil grin at his seductive twin.

"Nothing," she said innocently, a sure sign of a lie. "Take us home, brother."

He obediently picked her up and began the run to their house. "Seriously, what was it?" he picked, amused at her secretive effort.

"Since you ask, I think you were an idiot for picking on Kurt."

"An idiot? Oh, come on."

She had her arm around his shoulders as he ran at blurring speed. It didn't take a stretch for her to slap the back of his head. "Yes, an idiot."

"Only because you've got a crush on him," he grinned, teasing.

"Because he'd never pick on me like you do," she retorted. "Lay off, okay. He's got it really rough lately."

Pietro yielded the point while he slowed down several miles from the school. They zipped between trees in the surrendered old grounds of a vacant, high-end property. He stopped so they could unlock a gate hidden by years of overgrowth. The place was impenetrable for anyone who didn't know what they were looking for. More than that, it didn't look worth the attempt. Pietro and Wanda, however, easily arrived at the old guest house beyond a tumbled stone wall.

It was an impressive old Victorian, but since the mutant teens moved in it looked its age. It was not only a living space, but the headquarters for all of the missions commissioned by Pietro and Wanda's father. Most had resulted in police investigation, so the place was mutant-disguised and obscured. With that, they could continue serving his purposes in the area. Mostly that included keeping eyes on the Xavier Institute.

As Pietro ran up, he saw someone unfamiliar run out of the house calling his name. He skidded to a stop and saw her long green hair. His jaw dropped.

Wanda spoke when he couldn't. "Lorna!" she cried, beaming as their fourteen year old sister threw her arms around them.

Pietro hardly recognized her. Their father Magneto had two goals in life:: making mutants the rulers of the world, and spoiling his daughters. Wanda was trained as a force to be reckoned with as the heir to his legacy and the growing mutant country of Genosha. Pietro knew he was the top general of the armies. Lorna, however, was every inch a princess. He hadn't seen her in seven years, and that was the last time he had seen the shores of the Genosha. Back then the island was still an international backwater.

The little girl he remembered was now a fresh little teen. All her emails and letters didn't do her justice as she hugged Pietro with all she had. "Pietro, Pietro!" she squealed. "I came to visit you! Aren't you excited?"

It took a moment for him to get his voice, but he hugged her back right away. "Uh, yeah! Yeah!" he laughed. "How did-? When did-? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Lorna took his hand, dragging him into the house. "Come in, come in!"

Wanda smiled when Pietro looked at her for answers. Her shrug really didn't help, but his little sister was such a surprise he couldn't stop grinning.

His grin faded when, as they went inside he saw Julian Keller. Hellion.

Lorna skipped over to him, naïve as usual to how dangerous he was. All the mutants Magneto assigned to protect and dote on her were dangerous, the most elite force he had. "Hellion! Lookit who's home!"

Hellion was a powerful telekinetic, and a cunning young general in Magneto's upper level of leaders called the Brotherhood. As the Lesser Brotherhood, Pietro's team had to take orders from any one of them. "I see that." Hellion smiled his honeyed grin. "Why don't you get Toad and Blob to help you make some snacks?"

Lorna clung to Pietro's arm. "But…"

Hellion knelt to her. "I need to tell them some business from your father. They'll come back out to play, alright?"

Used to being handled with kid gloves, Lorna warmed to the request. "Okay!" She skipped off to the messy kitchen where Pietro's two drop-out lackeys were hiding.

Pietro could hardly believe she was there. It felt surreal. Magneto had never allowed their precious step-sister off of Genosha. Here she was, out of her ivory tower, and with him in the broken down house. By all accounts the place was a reeking excuse for a house thanks to unrestrained use of powers and the fact that Toad perpetually smelled of swamp.

Hellion stood. "Well, come on."

Pietro looked at her incredulously as they followed Hellion to another room, . "Did you know she was coming?"

Wanda smiled. "Yes, but not when."

In the old parlor, Pietro flopped onto the stained couch. "So what's the news, Hellion?"

Julian grimaced at him. "Orders, actually."

Wanda scolded her brother with a slap to his knee and perched on the cushion, elegant and dignified as usual.

He quieted, but kept grinning. Hellion may be strong, but Pietro figured he should be reminded who was a prince.

Hellion was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late 20's. He paced slowly in front of them, hands clasped comfortably behind his back. "Magneto has a big plan in the works. Lorna demanded to come visit you both and this means someone has to watch over her. Since she wanted to see you both, I'm leaving her here with you."

Pietro heard the first part best. "A big plan?" He was on his feet again without noticing. "Are the X-men involved?"

Hellion raised an eyebrow. "That's classified. It's a matter of Genoshan National Security."

Pietro frowned. "Well fine, but if it's so big what should my team be doing to prepare? We've got a lot to give! What's our part? Do we have to work on anything specific? Any new objectives?"

Hellion checked his watch nonchalantly. "Just keep doing what you're doing." He collected an expensive jacket from the old coat rack and picked splinters from the fabric before putting it on. "If you'll excuse me, I'm late for a meeting with Graiton Creed."

"But" – Pietro said, confused. "That's it?"

"That's it." He took a thick packet from his jacket pocket and dropped it on a chair. "Funding from Magneto. Cheers." With that he left the room and the house.

Through the open parlor door, Pietro could see and hear Lorna riding the shoulders of the mountain of flesh that was Blob, and mocking Toad's scrawny frame and sour smell. As neither of those things bothered him, he looked back at Wanda.

"So that's all we get to do? … And who's this Creed guy? Is he one of ours?"

Wanda's face clouded. "Let it go, Pietro. We've got our orders." She stood and went out to keep Lorna from driving Blob through the wall.

Pietro glowered. If Hellion thought the Lesser Brotherhood would be useless except as babysitters, then he had another thing coming. Pietro's mind spun, imagining up how big a part he and his teenaged team would play in his father's work. First he had to find out what the plan was, and Graiton Creed was the first question to answer.

Pietro had learned from Magneto's legendary tactics that often the answers to your questions are in the hands of your biggest opponent. The lesser Brotherhood existed to keep an ear to the ground around Xavier Institute for those kind of answers. Once, Charles Xavier had been so close to Magneto that Pietro, Wanda, and Lorna had learned to call him 'uncle'. The gap had suddenly widened to the point that there were spies in place. The dear children of Charles' philosophy and Magneto's men risked their lives in defending their divided ideals.

A fight of philosophies left plenty of room for defection and persuasion. Pietro decided to go to one turncoat, John Allerdyce, who'd stayed on at XI as a spy on the inside. If XI knew who Graiton Creed was, John would know too.

Pietro also knew the XI students would be taking an after school field trip to the natural history museum in the city. Never one to wait, he picked up his jacket at the front door only to have the doorknob pulled from his hand from the outside. "Hey!"

Lance Alvers, one of the Lesser Brotherhood, came in still wearing his backpack from school. "Can it, Speedy," he said, pushing his way in.

Pietro's face burned. "Don't you tell me to 'can it'!" He zipped in front of Lance again as he strolled to the couch. "Where have you been?!"

Lance was the only other member of Pietro's team besides himself, Wanda, and a few occasional allies, that hadn't dropped out of public school. Where Pietro's grades weren't great, Lance's were always just a hair better. Besides out doing him in that, Toad and Blob had the nerve to like Lance better than him.

Lance flopped on the couch. "I ride the bus, remember genius?"

Blob lumbered in from the kitchen, Lorna perched on his mountainous shoulders. She had to duck deeply to avoid the ceiling. "Uh, Lance… Good!" He gave a relieved grin. "Didn't know when you were comin' back."

Toad, whose legs were more comfortable leaping low to the ground than walking upright, jumped from behind him. "School's done the same time every day, Fred. Get a watch."

As Blob looked at his wrist which was nearly a foot around, Toad leapt right past Pietro to the arm of the couch. "You gotta help us, Lance, she's crazy!"

Lorna glared at him and pointed regally. "Hey! Blobby, throw him! He's mean!"

When Fred hesitated she hit his bald head. "Do it!"

Toad screeched as he fled and Lorna rode Fred in pursuit, giggling.

Lance sat up instantly. "Hey, stop! Call off your sister, Pietro. Toad didn't do anything, and Fred's not a stooge!"

Pietro folded his arms and grinned. "He called her crazy. I'm not doing anything. And it's Quicksilver to you."

Lance opened his mouth to sass back, but he put up his hands and stomped after them.

Proud, Pietro figured he put the upstart in his place. Taking a minute to preen, he put on his jacket and adjusted his stark white hair in a cracked mirror in the hall. As he gave up flattening a stubborn couple of locks up front, Wanda came up behind him.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Oh! Uh…" He smiled nervously. "To, um, the museum?"

She raised an eyebrow suspiciously, but to his relief she didn't ask more.

"Alright, then."

He relaxed and grinned, reaching for the door. "Be back sometime."

"Take Lorna with you."

Lorna heard and came skipping in, having lost interest in the pursuit. "Oh! Take me where? Will it be fun?"

Pietro's face fell. "But- I- Why?"

Lorna took his hand. "Where will we go? Can we get ice-cream?"

"She came to see you, Pietro, and Dad said to show her a _little_ of the world outside Genosha."

Pietro knew well enough his father wouldn't want any ugly truths to tarnish his precious daughter's trip. He sighed and smiled for Lorna. No's weren't an option, but sugarcoating wasn't Pietro's favorite activity.

"Fine. Museum first, ice cream later, okay?" he said, squeezing Lorna's hand.

Her smile was enough to melt his reluctance. "Yay!" She used her powers of magnetism, inherited from their father, to throw open the door. She hauled on his arm. "Let's go, let's go!"

Pietro grinned and scooped her up in his arms like he did for Wanda. "Let's go!"

Lorna gave a giddy squeal as they raced off in a blur to downtown.

Sure enough, the black van from Xavier's Institute sat in the parking lot. Pietro found the mutant teams on a tour led by a museum guide, but two of their teachers chaperoned. Pietro felt lucky the telepath Jean Grey had been replaced on this trip with some weak looking woman in a blue dress. No fighter would wear that.

Confident his little sister was occupied on an audio display nearby, Pietro caught John's eye. As the group was given time to look at an exhibit for a few minutes, Pietro waited behind a display.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" John hissed furiously. "Just being here you could blow my cover. You better have a damn good reason for this!"

"Shut up, Pyro," Pietro snapped. John was like Lance. Idiot kept forgetting who was boss. "Listen, the plan hasn't changed. I want you to tell me what this guy Graiton Creed has to do with it."

John grinned incredulously. "Seriously? Creed has everything to do with it! He's the leader of the Friends of Humanity… He's the richest, meanest, anti-mutant son of a bitch in the US!" He stood back and put his hands in his pocket smugly. "Geez, you don't know a thing, do you?"

Pietro flushed with fury. "Hey! I'm your contact here, so you gotta do what I tell you, got it?"

John was unintimidated, even scornful. He flipped a lighter and suddenly held a fist full of fire up to Pietro's chin. "Gonna run from this, track star?"

Pietro felt the flames lick at his chin and he stood on his toes doing his best to keep his authoritarian expression. "Get that out of my face."

John inched it closer by growing the flame, grinning maliciously before extinguishing his handful of flames. "Stay out of the plan and never contact me again." He left and rejoined the XI group.

Pietro exhaled, realizing with shame that he'd been holding his breath. He rubbed the stinging heat from under his chin and slipped out from behind the display.

Pyro didn't worry Pietro much, really. He was just a rebel, right? Any leader has his challengers and Pietro had him beat by bloodline alone.

What really kept his thoughts buzzing was the identity of Creed. He knew a few things. First, Hellion was known as a mutant only to a select group. Second, Creed would never associate with known mutants from what John said. Then he also knew it was usual for Magneto to employ the philosophy to "keep your friends close and enemies closer". After all, Magneto was a diplomat, politician, and philosopher, as well as a seriously powerful warrior. It was this final thing that puzzled him.

Spying on Creed was common sense, but Magneto's plans were never passive. John said Creed had everything to do with the plan. Creed had a bigger part and Pietro was at a loss as to what it could be. More questions to ask, for sure.

Pietro found Lorna near where he'd left her, but she wasn't alone. The lady he'd seen earlier was talking with her. Pietro hurried over, but at normal human speed so as not to give himself away. "Lorna!"

Lorna looked up and smiled. "Oh! See this is my brother Pietro who I told you about."

Pietro was bothered by the woman's open smile and blue eyes. She looked a little odd, sort of too innocent. He took Lorna's hand. "Come on, we're going now."

Lorna resisted. "No! I don't wanna! You're being mean." She smiled at the lady. "This is Ms. Kate! I like her, she's nice, and a mutant. Like us!"

Pietro looked at the lady a little more. It wasn't like an X-man to tell anyone their secret. "Oh yeah?"

She offered a hand and a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Lorna's been telling me so much about you."

Pietro stared at her hand for a second, a long time for him, before hesitantly shaking it. This lady had to be an idiot, new, or both. She obviously didn't know who he was, or who Lorna was. For a second he considered recruiting her, but with that smile this woman had to be some kind of peace lover. No room for that in his ranks, not with a big plan coming on.

He chose to just limply shake her hand. "Nice to meet you. Come on, Lorna, we've got to go get you some dinner."

Lorna squirmed as he took her hand. "But I don't wanna go!" When Pietro didn't hesitate, she waved to Kate as he pulled her hand. "Bye, Ms. Kate!"

Clearly confused, the woman waved back. "Oh! Well… Okay. Goodbye, Lorna. Have fun!"

"I will!" After a few moments Lorna looked up at her brother. "Why didn't you like her, Pietro? She's nice and funny. If you let her talk, you'd-"

"Some mutants are different than others, Lorna." Pietro directed her to the gift shop knowing she'd be plenty distracted.

That didn't help. She only shook a snow globe and asked another question. "Can I have her?"

Pietro tried to think how not to say 'no'. "She belongs to the X-men, Lorna. If she knew who we were, she wouldn't even talk to us."

Lorna sighed, pouting. "I know daddy doesn't like them, but she was really nice. Couldn't everybody just get along? We're all mutant."

Pietro spun a little commemorative ball on his finger. "If everyone was mutant there wouldn't be a problem. Humans are the problem."

Lorna looked around. "How?"

"The X-men are human lovers," Pietro said with disgust. "As if humans hating them weren't enough, they fight with us for showing the humans who's boss."

Lorna lost interest in shopping and frowned to herself. "But if we're all mutant, we should get along."

"Well, that's how it is," Pietro said shortly, putting the trinkets back on the shelf.

After buying the toys Lorna had picked out, he ran her by an ice cream place and then got her home before it melted.

It was hard not to let Lance's insolence and John's cutting pride get to him. It might have deterred him, but nothing could. If he played an indispensable part in this plan, then no one could question who was boss of this team. He was the boss! He was the son of Magneto! He was a prince of mutants and he would make sure to be that from now on.

That night, he went to Wanda's room. He wanted to know, from her, where his country stood. She was always well informed, but Pietro also knew she had a heavy weight on her shoulders. She was the heir, after all.

"We're in trouble financially, I know that," she said as she lay on her bed. Hers was the only room in the house that was clean. It also had soundproof walls, floor, and ceiling.

Pietro lay at her feet on her large bed, thinking. "Trouble? But what about the bank?"

She pushed her hair from her shoulder as she shrugged. "The bank's fine. It's really done a good job. The issue is most of the county's capital is invested in the buildings of the city. All that art, the architecture, the technology sucked up millions in our funds."

Pietro traced the patterns on her comforter guiltily. "Wow…"

Wanda sighed. "Pietro… I don't think Dad's being very realistic."

"In what?"

"Genosha. The whole country." She played with one of the toys Lorna brought back from the museum. "We're so small. The state of New York is bigger than the whole island."

Pietro was worried about her tone. He rarely saw her so concerned and even less often heard her disagree with their father. "Size isn't really the problem," he said with a small smile. "England's tiny, but the whole world knows them."

Wanda smiled. "Think through that one. They have hundreds of years of history, generations of colonies, and at least ten times our population. They also have a society, systems, and authorities already in place to keep those citizens under control."

Pietro smiled. "We'll get there. The place is planned right."

Wanda looked troubled instead. "Honestly, it's more like a million dollar small town instead of the city we built it to be."

Pietro watched her, feeling bad he couldn't make her smile. She was the only person who cared about him for him, and he knew it was Wanda who would have to bear the incredible weight of ruling Genosha after Magneto. Alone like this, he was comforted to know she could show it for once.

She picked at the pillowcase. "I'm afraid, Pietro," she sighed. "We only have a few thousand people for our citizens, and I'm supposed to lead them? To where? For what?"

"A better life," Pietro said quickly. "Somewhere great and far away from humans who would mess everything up for them!"

"We're 17, Pietro. At this point, I hardly know if I can govern myself, let alone a new country full of people older, stronger, and more intelligent than me."

"Hey!" Pietro threw a pillow at her. "I want to debate that." He smiled encouragingly. "You can outclass everyone in that stuff!"

She threw the pillow back at him with a little smile. "You're biased." His success was fleeting as her melancholy returned. "Whether or not I can lead won't matter if Genosha goes bankrupt."

Pietro frowned, noting her worry. "Is it that bad?"

Wanda looked down and sighed. "I shouldn't doubt Dad. He's always got a plan for everything. We've been pretty successful so far."

"He wouldn't let anything happen to Genosha," Pietro said firmly.

"I just wish more people would take us seriously!" Wanda said, suddenly upset. "We'd change all their minds if they just gave us more credit as a country instead of as the world's mutant prison colony! Right now we're becoming the home base for criminals. We don't mind refuges, but we can't afford the rap for all the runaway hooligans trying to get off from the law."

Pietro frowned, surprised how much of an issue it actually was.

Wanda saw the look and settled some. "It's not that we don't want to help, but we can't be a free ticket to every mutant who claims discrimination. I don't want to rule villains. We're already enough of a joke to the diplomats of the world."

It hurt Pietro to see Wanda bothered. Lorna was experiencing a little of it despite how sheltered she was in Genosha with Magneto. Pietro shared their dream of a safe, accepting place for mutants. He dreamed about living there, happy with his sisters.

"Wanda, if I can do anything to help, you know I'll do my best." He took her hand to give it a squeeze.

She smiled gratefully, but shook her head. "No offense, Pietro, but how could we fix this?"

"Well I'm here at the root of it all," he said. "Most of the mutants having a bad time here, down on the lower levels, think pretty highly of Genosha."

Wanda listened with a bit more interest. "Oh? How?"

"To a lot of them it's like a promised land. Visuals are even more for it. As long as they're informed they generally talk about it like a homeland. Not just the shunned ones either. A lot of them have had lots of school."

He was glad to see she was comforted by his words.

She patted his hand gently. "Maybe… Maybe after this plan of Dad's you'll get to come home?"

Though it sounded wonderful to him, Pietro grinned nobly. "I'll stay anywhere to help Dad, you and Lorna, and Genosha."

She smiled sadly and he softened.

"I'd really like to come home," he said quietly, "even just for a visit."

That next day Pietro rolled out of bed late, having stayed up talking to Wanda. Dizzying spots danced before his eyes and he felt his muscles shake. Breakfast. He dashed downstairs and quickly stuffed a spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth. Eating usually helped stop the shaking and dizziness, but he had to sit awhile to let it work. While he did, he heard Lorna ordering Toad and Fred around in the yard. Sounded like they were playing some odd version of house.

Pietro happily sucked on another spoonful of peanut butter. It was about time those two slackers were kept on their toes.

An envelope on the table came into focus as the food helped Pietro's system settle. He picked it up and read the post-it on the front. It was Lance's writing.

"Note left on the door. Be back Monday night."

Pietro snorted. Lance was always bugging out on weekends. Didn't matter too much to Pietro, though. The less he saw of that cocky upstart the better.

The handwriting on the envelope mattered a lot, however. Pietro grinned mischievously. This might just be his ticket to finding more about Magneto's big plan. The curly script read "Julian" and it definitely belonged to Emma Frost.

He heard the door open and he zipped into the hall, grinning at his good luck. "Hey Hellion! How's it going?" he asked, hiding the envelope behind his back as he leaned on the doorway.

Julian straightened his coat. "I'm here to check on how things are going with Lorna's visit. I won't be here long." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Pietro suspiciously.

Pietro gave his best toothy grin.

Julian shook his head. "Idiot. Has anything come for me?"

"As a matter of fact," Pietro held up the envelope and said, loud enough for the whole house to hear, "you got a note from Emma!"

Toad and Fred came in. Just as he hoped, Julian's face clouded and he glowered.

"Emma Frost?" Fred said, his perpetual expression of 'what?' holding a little excitement.

Toad leaped over with his ridiculously powerful legs. "Hott damn! Betcha it smells like her." He grinned with pleasure and made a grab for the note. "Lemme see it!"

Julian grabbed Toad by the neck, flinging him away. "Sick little beast." He frowned at Pietro. "Give it to me."

Fred chuckled slowly. "Doesn't she like Cyclops?"

Pietro made a shocked face, glad the Blob brought it up. "Oh! That's right. Aw, poor Hellion."

Pietro knew Hellion could easily tear him apart, but Pietro was playing on his pride. As he expected, Julian hardened.

Hellion's voice was low and lethal. "Come with me, you little bastard, and bring the note."

Glad to have provoked him, Pietro zipped to the next room and leaned against the wall.

Julian closed the door behind them and his anger obscured his handsome face. "What is your problem?"

Pietro lifted his chin haughtily. "I want information."

Julian frowned. "That note's important and you're holding it for a question?"

"Answer it and I'll let you have your 'important' note. Just the one question and a legit answer." He raised his eyebrow and held up the note with the handwriting facing out.

"Fine. What the hell."

Pietro nodded. "What does Magneto want with the Friends of Humanity?"

Julian was surprised by the question, but he shook his head firmly. "All I can say is some plans of mutant-kind's enemies have the potential to do Genosha a favor."

"Well that's a crap answer," Pietro snorted. "What plans? What kind of favor?"

Hellion lost patience and his eyes glowed.

Pietro couldn't hold onto the note if he tried. It leapt out of his hand and into Hellion's. It was a parlor trick compared to Hellion's real power, but it served his purpose.

Hellion pocketed it. "Treat your step-sister well, or I'll have to follow my orders. You're responsible for her."

He left, and Pietro might have been mad, but he wasn't. He'd gotten something important. He knew it was important from Hellion's reaction, but didn't he know what to do with it. And he was still without a lot of important detail.

Later that day Pietro was picking up on some real activity. Julian was calling more, there was an agitated feeling at Baywood High School, and the anti-mutant feeling in town was spiking. He could tell because he racked up three more detentions than usual.

When they did get orders from Julian, Pietro knew for sure it was business with the big plan and he was eager to be a part of it. Julian only gave them what to do on that upcoming Wednesday, but Pietro went over orders again and again to try and figure out more of the whole plan.

Wanda was to be in the school's front office at the passing period to lunch. 11:55 am. Pietro was to know where Bobby and the X-men kids were at all times.

Lorna would still be at the house, safe. That was predictable. The rest of the team would be at Pietro's disposal, keeping an eye on everything in the immediate area of the X-men kids.

After Julian gave them the orders, he warned them he wouldn't be coming around for quite a while. He even initiated phone black out. No calls for any reason.

Pietro, as soon as he heard the orders, couldn't have cared less about Julian. These orders were very similar to others he'd received for years. He and his team had played the distraction a hundred times before, and Pietro had this role down. This time, though, he was determined to go above and beyond.

On the weekend and early in the week, he drafted up some new drills and drove his sluggish team out on the lawn to drill harder and longer than before.

Lance gave a half-hearted effort at best and it infuriated PIetro.

"Hey! Avalanche!" Pietro ran up to him and all but yelled in his face. "You get your ass in gear!"

Lance frowned, but didn't back away. "This is stupid. I'm tired of getting thrown at the X-men just so your big shot daddy and his friends don't have to get their hands dirty."

He then turned his back and walked off.

Pietro fumed and chased him down. It wasn't hard. Before he could take more than two steps, Pietro was in his face again. "We have a big role in this, don't you get it?! All of us, we're the only thing standing between the X-jerks and the biggest thing to happen to mutants in years!"

Toad's eyes widened as he listened. Lance wasn't convinced, but Fred was starting to listen.

"We're who Magneto put at the front lines! We have this job and we'll pull our weight for everyone who's had to put up with all this human shit. It's been hell these last few weeks! I don't know about all of you, but I want to be ready if we get the chance to show 'em what we're made of!"

Toad threw his fist in the air. "Yeah!"

Fred fiddled with his thick, sausage-like fingers. "I dunno. I don't like takin' hits. It hurts."

Pietro was about to give him a shout, but Wanda stepped up.

"It's a big deal. What we do affects how other mutants feel about who they are and what they can do. We're strong! We're going to practice so we can stand up to all the humans who want to control us!"

"You say that real nice, Wanda!" Toad was starry-eyed.

She grimaced and zapped him with a "magic" bolt from her hand.

That made Pietro grin. He was fired up. He knew what he wanted to do and he was glad to have Wanda with him.

They cooperated despite Lance stalking off, and Pietro sat up late on Tuesday night with a map of Baywood High School. He ran through his plan over again, even using colored markers to remember the movements he'd ordered. No X-men member at Baywood would get away with anything this time. Every one of them would be prevented from interfering come 11:55!

"Pietro?"

Pietro blinked out of his focused state. "Huh?" He saw Lorna at his door and he smiled. "Hey pretty girl. What're you still doing up?"

She came in and climbed up next to him on his squeaky bed, comfy in her pajama pants and heart patterned tank top. "I was worried about you."

"About me? Ha!" He put his arm around her narrow shoulders. "I should be worried about you instead. 14 year old princesses need to be in bed before 10."

"Everyone's upset at you, Pietro," she said sadly. "They're mad you're making them work so hard."

He smiled, touched she'd be concerned. "They're mad at me a lot. I'm the boss, so it's part of my job to make them do things they never would. Besides, this is important, Lorna. We're a big part of Dad's plan." He smoothed her hair to try and make her worried expression disappear.

"But…"

"If I do a good job, Dad will notice, Lorna. We're going to be the facing enemies of all mutants, not just people against Dad and Genosha."

She sighed. "Why? Why are there 'enemies'?"

"An ugly little truth, sister." He kissed her forehead. "But that's not for you to worry about, right?" He smiled and she nodded slowly. "I'll protect the team. That's why I've been working them. If we practice, we'll be ready no matter what!"

Lorna nodded. "Good. You'll be safe too?"

Pietro softened. Lorna and Wanda were the only people who would be worried about him. He always struggled with how to take that. "I'll be okay."

"And will you promise something? Don't hurt other mutants. Remember, they're Brothers and Sisters too."

Pietro thought about the X-men kids and couldn't promise her that. Instead he smiled gently and petted her green hair. "It'll be alright, Lorna. I promise I'll be good. Okay? For my favorite little sister."

Lorna smiled and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Pietro."

He couldn't help giving her a hug. Those four words were so wonderful, but so unfamiliar. "I love you too, little Lorna." He formed a smile and let her go. "You go get to bed so I don't get in trouble for keeping you up!"

She giggled and got up. "Okay! Good night!"

Pietro watched her skip out of his room and sighed. She was so lucky, floating in her protected world where everyone loved her and told her so. He felt lucky to have her for these few days. Even though the biggest assignment he'd ever been given was that next day, he did wish he, Wanda, and Lorna could have done more together.

Dwelling on that didn't help, so he went back to work. Hell, he thought, maybe if he knocked this one out of the park, then he'd finally get to spend some time in Genosha. He fell asleep dreaming of how it would have changed after 7 years.

The next day Pietro watched the clock like it would suddenly go backward. 11:52. So close! His heart raced, his stomach churned. He was convinced he could do more to help if he only knew what was going to happen.

Pietro hadn't seen Lance. That goof-off had probably ditched. Pietro was mad over that, but he'd get back at him later. Now was time to focus. He'd take Lance's position tailing the X-men.

John wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. Pietro watched, just in case something should clue him in on where all of this was going.

At 11:55 the bell rang and Pietro nearly jumped a foot in the air. Any second now. From anywhere some Humanists could come blasting in, or the X-men could duck out and escape his watch.

Wanda had already been called to the office and Pietro for once forced his body to go slow as he gathered his stuff and followed the X-men out.

It puzzled him they were all totally at ease. They were all talking about what was on the menu at the cafeteria.

"Hey, I left a book in math class," John said. "I'll catch up, ok?"

Bobby turned as John headed back past Pietro. "Better hurry or Kurt will eat all the burgers!"

That got a big laugh.

John met Pietro's eyes as he pushed past him, and his expression made Pietro nervous. He was a cocky jerk, yeah, but John shot him an odd grin and a 'see you later' jerk of the head.

Pietro couldn't react, not when he heard the X-men get quieter in their talk. When they did that they were usually plotting and he thought for sure it was something important.

"Bet you he's up to something," Bobby was muttering.

"Leave him alone," the big Russian said. "He may walk where he likes."

"Not on my watch," Bobby snorted and they turned into the big crowd of hungry students. "Hey! Speedy!"

Pietro couldn't understand why he hadn't gotten some signal by now.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Bobby said. "Why are you following" –

A sudden deafening bang made the hall silent for Pietro. There was a flash of fire and a blast that tore apart the hall in front of them, bringing walls crumbling down on the crowds of students. Pietro was knocked flat and so were the XI students.

Pietro couldn't hear anything but a high-pitched whistling as he opened his eyes to dust clouds, screaming faces, and a wall that had fallen just short of his feet, bulked up over Piotr's metal form hunched over as many people as he could protect.

Then there was another blast! He felt the shock wave and the flashes. Pietro's mind spun as outside light poured through the massive hole in the school's wall onto the pile of rubble and torn up backpacks of students.

Run! It was the only thing Pietro could think and he found himself struggling to his feet and fumbling outside. Everything was a haze of dust, glaring sun, and people running toward the hole in the wall.

Pietro ran off, zipping with as much direction as he could muster toward the front office where Wanda was supposed to be. Red, blue, and white lights got close on the roads, but he could only hear his own breathing and the high-pitched whistling in his ears. He couldn't wrap his head around the multiple explosions and the damage.

As he turned to see another more serious blast hole, Pietro tripped. At his speed, he fell and rolled over and over on the lawn. Halfway through his tumble, the sound came back and he clamped his hands over his ears against the screams, shouts, and sirens coming from every direction.

He heard cries for help, cries of panic, anger, and pain coming from all over. The sirens of fire engines and squad cars jolted him from his stupor. He had to get away before he got tangled up in this mess!

The main office was untouched and he was sure Wanda hadn't been in the danger zone, so he took to his heels and dashed almost too fast for the eyes to see back to the Brotherhood house. At that speed he avoided anyone asking him questions. Instead he singled in on the hope his sisters were safe and sound.

When he arrived, he didn't pause before dashing upstairs toward her room. He slammed open the door. "Wanda!" The room was empty, but he heard the news turned up on a TV.

-"to be a group of anti-mutant activists calling themselves the Friends of Humanity. Our reporter, Chuck B-"

Pietro's heart raced and his mind spun. This was their plan? Bombing a school and- How would this help?

Pietro shoved the falling pieces of the truth from his mind. Wanda. Where were Wanda and Lorna? He saw a note on the bed and he snatched it up in a blink, reading out loud.

"Wanda, Lorna, and John are on the Genoshan ship Polaris on their way to the palace for safe keeping." Pietro was relieved to hear his sisters were far from danger, but…

He sat down, holding the note and looking at it although it was no longer in focus. John. His sisters and John got called to Genosha for protection. Pietro was alone. Not only that, he wasn't warned. He was told to follow the X-men kids, and if he'd even been a few steps nearer he might have been killed by the blast. He looked up and felt like he had a cold hand squeezing the life from his heart. He'd been passed over, again, by his father. He was left in the line of fire like a common pawn.

The news footage playing downstairs got Blob and Toad running up. "Hey! Hey boss! What happened?"

"Yeah, what" –

Pietro stood furiously. "Shut the hell up! I don't know, so leave me alone!"

They looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Get OUT!" Pietro grabbed a lamp and flung it with all his might.

The two thugs dodged the glass shards and fled downstairs while Pietro screamed at them. He didn't know what he was saying. He was barely even aware he was crying as he fell back to sitting, the news rattling on as more devastating attacks were reported.

"We are receiving reports of fatalities at public schools in Maine, Georgia, Tennessee, Maryland, Vermont, Colorado, Missouri, California, Arizona, Nevada, Montana, Texas..."


	4. Chapter 4 - Divided

Episode 4: Divided

The poker game broke up about two am. Remy was satisfied with the outcome. Normally he sent the other players out of the smoky back room with empty pockets, but this time he came out ahead with the players eager to play again.

Remy put his glass down on the table and put on his long coat, the last to get up. "Played good, Jacques," he said, tucking his winnings in his pocket.

"How d'ya know when Ah'm bluffin', LeBeau?" he asked, tucking his own smaller roll out of sight.

Remy chuckled as he followed him out. "Ah can't tell y'dat, Jacques, ah got t'keep mah secrets!"

"Ain't fair, y'know," Jacques retorted, lighting a cigar under the streetlight. "Game was fair, but it ain't right you dealin' fah Boudreaux an' da Assassins."

"It's hell, but ah ain't talkin' 'round it no more," he said turning down the offer of a cigar. A shadow caught his eye and he lowered his voice. "Go on, Jacques, ah gotta deal wid da devil."

Jacques glanced at the shadow. He blew out smoke, shaking his head. "Julius be in a foul mood t'night, LeBeau. If y'need me, ah'm always 'round."

Remy clapped a hand on his shoulder as he left, staying put as Julius Boudreaux prowled into Jacques' place beside him.

Julius was the same height as Remy, but carried himself like he was as tall as they came. "What's da cut, LeBeau?"

Remy was only 18, but he dealt cards like a shark for the den Boudreaux ran. He dug out the bill fold. "Came out up as always. Got mah 20%. Ah" –

Julius snatched the wad of cash, clamping his fist over Remy's painfully. "All of it."

Remy glared at him, tightening his grip on the money. "Hey, ah won it, an' Ah did it fair an' square. 20%."

Julius grimaced and blasted Remy with a waft of rum-laden breath. "Mah place. Mah dealah. Mah cash."

Remy weighed his disgust of the man and the price of that money. A small $2100 and breaking Julius' teeth would cost a feud, the murder of his father, and most likely his own life. Taking a breath, he loosened his grip. "Ya' cash."

Julius grinned and suddenly gave Remy's wrist a blindingly painful twist, clenching the money in his fist. "Damn right, LeBeau!" He pocketed it and walked off. "Watch y'self, mutant boy. Ain't safe fer ya' kind 'round here no more!"

Remy only checked his wrist after Julius left, letting a pained hiss out through his teeth. It didn't look as bad as it felt, and thankfully it was still functional.

He hoped no one saw, and he looked around for any bystanders. Thankfully there weren't any, but that wasn't typical in New Orleans.

As he headed up between two buildings to the narrow cobbled street, the common crowd was out. The street lights pooled on the stones in front of the narrow sidewalks and the wrought iron railings of the buildings there in the French Quarter. The lonely strains of the last jazz horn sang out before dawn from a street corner as he greeted the blind psychic in her window who waved before he spoke. Old Darius was starting his early morning baking and Remy walked slower past the storefront for the smell of the biscuits and beignets. The city did make him smile.

It had changed some, especially lately. He knew several mutant newcomers who couldn't walk about as freely as him. Even then, he was better accepted at night. He and others had to take advantage of the fringe life to make a living… as gamblers, artists, and whatever specialized work they could get with their unique talents.

Remy wound around the city. It was quiet now since even the streetcars weren't running. He slipped between buildings to take alleys he'd been stalking since he was a child.

Once his mood evened out after Julius, he took his phone from his pocket and checked the messages. He had two phones, one for the Boudreaux business and Julius' sister Bella Donna, the other for friends and family. Most of all, his second phone was for Anna.

A message was on it and he smiled, quickly putting it to his ear.

Anna's voice came on with its sweet Mississippi swing. "Hey Cajun! Y'gotta tell me how the game went t'night, an' if y'got home safe. Text me, or Ah'll come down there an' beat you silly!" Remy chuckled when he heard her laugh. "You be good, now, an' we'll talk in the mornin'." She finished with a kiss into the receiver and he was beaming even when the message clicked off.

"Damn, Cher," he grinned to himself and dialed back. Just as he expected, it went straight to her voicemail. After the tone, he left a message. "Good girl, Cher, goin' t'bed like y'should. God, Ah love hearin' ya' voice! Poker went fine, don'cha worry. Ah'm headin' back t'da 'partment now, but ah'll be up by six t'wish y'good mornin'. Sleep well, mah Cher." His smile softened and he wished she could be there. "Ah love ya, mah Cherie." He quietly hung up, aching for her. He deeply felt the long year it had been since her last visit, but hearing from her was too wonderful to dwell on the emptiness that followed.

While he'd been on the phone he'd about finished his walk. He took a turn down a dark street where someone had shot out the street lamp. He headed toward the only lights on the block. They were the dull glowing windows of his apartment complex.

The place weighed him down, especially seeing filthy people eye him as he walked around to the fire escape in the back. Girls with wailing babies on their hips watched every man with skeptical eyes and the men weren't always the most stable in the head, in Remy's experience.

Once around back, he used one of his mutant gifts. Charging the kinetic energy in his feet and the ground, he gave a short run and took a graceful ten foot leap onto the second floor landing. Straightening up, he pulled his key and unlocked the door to number 227.

The lights were on inside and it smelled like cigarettes. He frowned, irritated. Bella Donna was already there. Julius' younger sister got anything she wanted, and almost three years ago she decided she wanted Remy. He knew some people on the outside thought he should be grateful. She was from a powerful family, he lived on her money, and he had a job. In reality she was spoiled, abusive, and if he left her his father would be murdered. A big part of the draw for Bella Donna was Remy was the adopted son of a rival clan of criminals.

Remy heard the shower running and he shed his coat as quietly as possible, hoping she wouldn't be hungry for attention. The last time she'd come to his hovel for the night, he had long scratches that bled and she'd bitten him and left marks. She was a cruel 16 year old mess.

There was no avoiding her eventual demands except refusing to sleep with her. He'd been trying that lately. It had been enough to shock her, but he still wanted more strength to hold up against her. Remy went to the tiny kitchen and reached up to his hidden bourbon bottle.

A couple of shots later he sat on the couch. He felt odd. Two were generally just enough. But he felt off. Dizzy, fuzzy. His vision swam and his arm went the wrong way when he tried to touch his face to feel if it was still there.

A slim tan shape absorbed his vision and settled on his lap, wrapping around him before everything dissolved from focus.

The pounding in his head woke him up. The dark back of his eyelids seemed to throb, but when he opened his eyes the dim light in the bedroom was ten times worse. "Oh God," he moaned and put his forearm over his eyes.

When he moved, he realized he was far from alone. He peeked out the corner of his eye to see Belle clinging to him, her arm draped over his chest.

It made him so nauseous he just prayed his insides would stay in. He hauled himself from the bed and about ran his head into the wall, feeling the world pitch and reel under his feet.

"Somethin' else was in dat bourbon," he thought, steadying himself and blearily looking for his boxers. "She got t'it first… damn it! Nevah nevah ag'in!" He pulled on his boxers, noticing the new scratches on his body.

He looked back at Bella Donna in the bed snoring with her narrow self and blonde hair sprawled out. To anyone else, she'd be attractive. They could have her. He would happily send her and her selfish, violent moods and underhanded tricks anywhere he wasn't.

Remy slowly made his way to the couch and collapsed on it, his mind still fevered and head pounding. "It's pas' six. Ah missed Anna's good mornin', an' she's prob'ly losin' it. God, why?"

A voice, familiar and supportive, cut through in his mind. It was Professor Charles Xavier. _"I'm so sorry, Remy," _he said_. "Are you alright?_"

Remy was immensely relieved to have a friendly thought, but he limited himself to a small grin. "_Ah'm okay, Professah. Been awhile._"

"_You're not alright, Remy,_" he replied. "_Don't lie to me. She drugged you?_"

"_Yeah, she got t'mah bourbon. Her bruddah rip me off too. Not mah bes' day. Tell Anna ah really didn' mean t'miss her at six._"

"_She knows_," Charles assured him. "_You know you are always more than welcome here, Remy. You have always had a place with us_."

Remy heaved a sigh. "_You know ah can't do dat, Professah_."

"_I know. You're right to protect your father. But if and when the day comes that you need to run, this is your safe place_."

He smiled. "_Safe's a fairytale, Professah. Safe is somethin' ya make for yahself_."

Charles' mental chuckle danced in Remy's mind. "_Or safe is something people create for one another. This is part of why I contacted you._"

Remy carefully got up, feeling he was dreadfully thirsty. "_Y'all need somethin'_?"

"_We have some information that there are some anti-mutant activities going on in your ar_ea," Charles said, "_and it's a growing trend. Have you noticed anything like that?_"

Remy chugged at a water bottle, avoiding the sour milk in the fridge. "_You say it, Professah. Da place ain't as friendly, an' the Assassin Guild's mood t'us is sourin' more an' more_."

"_Have you noticed any new influences in New Orleans?_"

"_Some_," Remy admitted after some thought. "_Ah seen some strange folk hangin' out with Julius an' his men._"

"_I know you have a full plate_," the Professor said as Remy headed to the shower, "_but it would mean alot if you would find out what you can about who and what is in play down there_."

Remy stepped into the hot shower and let it run over his head. "_You got it, Professah. Ah was hopin' to get t'da bottom of dis nasty feelin' mahself_."

"_Keep safe, Remy_," Charles said kindly. "_And keep us informed_."

Remy smiled to himself, pleased at his concern. "_Y'can bet on it_."

That night, Remy arrived at the wharf where he'd heard the meeting was happening. The Professor had told him about a possible meeting having to do with the anti-mutant groups, and he'd confirmed it with a few questions to the right people in the city.

It was a dingy, foul-smelling place, especially in the dark where he was glad he couldn't see what his boots might be slipping in. Just the smell of the industrial shore soured his stomach, and he slid quickly from shadow to shadow toward the warehouse he wanted.

Scoping it out, he figured the right window was the only one lit. It sat high above the wharf in the isolated top rooms.

Remy looked over the building with its sheer wall and rusted out pieces of fire escape. The saltwater wind and damp air did a number on metal like that and he had to look elsewhere for a way up.

A smaller building nearby had a reasonably high roof, but Remy could handle that. He took a small, silent run and charged the ground when he leaped. He landed silently atop the building and quickly spied a wider window nearer the warehouse window. Another leap and his fingers caught the ledge. Swinging up, he skillfully sized up the final leap to the top of the warehouse and took it.

Directly above the window, he held still for some time to be sure he wasn't heard. He breathed silently and his touch was light on the roof to allow no betraying creaks. After a few long minutes of silence, he retrieved a listening device from his pocket; a suspended microphone hooked to a recorder and a single ear piece.

Remy situated himself behind the edge of the roof and lowered the mic level with the window, tucking in the earpiece.

"We're bein' overrun," a deep voice was saying, and Remy pegged it as a more Tennessee tilt, not a local creole blend. "Aint' no way them mutant filth gonna run our world, y'see? All them be rackin' up friends'n followers what get sucked int'thinkin' they be jus' like us. Ah tell ya, it ain't so!"

Another voice chimed in, a woman, adding to the voice of the first. "Some ain't the kind y'can see bein' mutant. They be unnatural smart an' some been learnin' t'use their freak skills t'get b'tween good folks an' what be rightly theirs. They been swayin' folks, an' up north a city fell so deep fer their tricks, a mutant lookin' like a blue Bigfoot got elected t'public office! He ain't there but t'look after his own!"

Remy heard Julius next, grumbling his agreement. "Ain't what we want nowhere. Ah lean wit' y'all, but ah ain't worried 'bout no place up north. Deal me straight, what do y'all want wit' me an' mah city?"

It sickened Remy to hear Julius speak so boldly of New Orleans. Even ole Boudreaux, the head of the Assassin's Guild and Julius' father, would have a few things to say about that. If the people in the city heard it, there would be a real riot. All things considered, Remy didn't feel that Julius getting torn apart by public mob was altogether a bad thing.

"Big things're comin' fast," the man said. "We ain't sittin' by while they get up their crews and come together all organized."

"We," the woman said, "want you an' yer people with us, an' in on alla what's goin' down."

Remy heard Julius grunt skeptically. "What d'ya got fer me, den?"

"We have friends in high places, Mr. Boudreaux," the man said with a smile in his voice. "With us, there ain't a man who can touch you."

Julius was unimpressed. Remy listened to the seconds of silence before his reply.

"Ain't no man alive kin touch me now. Ah don' need yer fancy connections as ah've got mah own!" Remy heard him stand, pushing his chair away with a loud clatter. "Ah'm the biggest damn dog in Louisiana!"

Remy flinched at his volume and took the earpiece out briefly before listening in again.

"If all y'all want anythin' round mah city, y'all gotta go t'rough me," Julius was now demanding. "Anythin' gets done, its cuz ah say so, an' nothin' goes down wit'out mah say so or ah'll get mah"-

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, the bullet striking less than a foot from where Remy hunched. With his thief's reflexes, Remy took flight.

He took the fastest escape route he'd planned, vaulting the small ledge onto the fire escape. He heard men yelling and shouts of alarm strike up and get louder.

Remy knew he'd been spotted, but he couldn't waste time or thought on that. Another shot, from the ground this time, made him duck as it hit over his head.

When he ducked, his weight shifted and a rusted panel on the fire escape gave out.

His leg went through the hole, then his weight broke two more panels and he fell down the side of the building, grabbing for anything to slow or stop his fall.

After slamming into many of the rusted metal bars, Remy hit the ground hard, though he took most of the force in a roll, gaining a good start to his desperate run. The guards had multiplied and many were close on him, giving him no time to recover or hide.

If their vulgar yells weren't enough to deafen him, he felt the pounding of their feet as they closed in. Remy's lungs burned and he quickly pulled out his short staff. It was retracted and he swiftly spun around to face the mob. In a split second, he planted his feet and extended his staff to full length, charging it till it glowed. He wasn't about to go down a like a running rat.

The first few men had the wind knocked out of them, and one from the back of the pack went flying and landed several feet away. The crew of eight was stunned by the blows and confusion, but Remy didn't hesitate to swing his staff and crack it across several heads as they rebounded toward him in fury. With skillful blows he flung weapons from their hands and dealt whirlwind attacks with his long rod.

Remy was wounded and winded. He only kept up long enough to make the men good and dazed. He saw an escape and threw a charged playing card in the short space between him and them before slipping into a dark alley. The card exploded and the leader roared at the men until they pounded off in pursuit, passing right by Remy's narrow hiding place.

Remy's heart pounded and he held his side weakly, watching them go. "Damn fools," he muttered, pleased with his escape. "All da same… dere ain't no reason for pushin' mah luck now." He went to a manhole cover and slipped into the New Orleans underground for a more leisurely stroll to where he could reach the apartment in peace.

When he came up and headed to the apartment, he was frustrated. It was a fractured rib, he was sure. There was a large, shallow scrape on one hand, and a road burn along his back. It would be hellishly sore and red in the morning.

He had the audio file for the Professor, but he had hoped to get at least a picture of the stranger. He never wanted to disappoint Charles. Never. Whatever he got never felt like enough.

"Hey, Boy."

Remy looked up as he reached the top stair. He blinked in surprise, but smiled. "Daddy! What you doin' here?"

Jean Luc LeBeau, Remy's adoptive father, put out his cigarette and gave Remy a small grin, meeting him halfway. "Hey boy, what you bin doin'? Busy?" He saw Remy's odd limp and frowned at the way he was holding his arm. "Y'alright, boy?"

Remy shrugged and shook his head. "Ain't nothin' serious. Nevah you min'." He quickly changed the subject. "Ah ain't seen y'down dis way fer weeks yet, daddy. Ah t'ought ya was holed up for a time longah?"

Jean Luc shook his head. "World bin shiftin' Remy. City bin shiftin'. Don' spect you had t'much listenin' doin' lately, what wit' yer work an' Bella Donna's lead on ya, but Julius bin makin' more enemies den friends."

"Oh dat so?" Remy was intrigued and watched his mentor's face curiously.

Jean Luc nodded. "Mmhm. Boudreaux bin steppin' down of late. Bin handin' the reins t'junior. Julius don' run like his papa. Ain't no brains b'hind dat boy's plans!" He shook his head, looking down for emphasis.

"What all's he doin'?" Remy asked. "Folks don' tell me no news. Dey know Julius got me workin' an' fetchin' fer Belle."

"Julius, he be actin' like dem Yankee gang men," Jean Luc said. "He t'reaten an' fight wit' good people an' make 'em pay fer him t'leave em alone! How dat right, Ah ask ya?"

"Ain't right no way," Remy agreed.

"No it ain't!" he repeated. "Now da men an' ah been goin' 'round helpin' where we all can. Been gettin' help an' many folks be lookin' fer a way out… dey be lookin' fer da N'awleans from our days, Remy," he said, his voice low and confidential.

Remy shook his head. "Ain't dat way no more…"

"But it could be, boy!" he said earnestly. "We been growin' strong an' b'fore long, ah'll have ya outta here! Outta here an' maybe yer lady from up North can come an' be with ya!"

"Y'fulla stories, daddy," Remy shook his head. "Been gettin' bettah f'years now, but ain't no way da city's gonna buck Boudreaux 'less it come to front they be hatin' all us mutant kind. With dey claws in me, dey got reason t'prove dey be friendly and toleratin' us."

Jean Luc opened his mouth to reply, but Remy's phone began to ring.

"Who dat, boy?"

"It's mah Cher!" Remy said, fumbling to pull the phone from his pocket, despite the pain it caused to his scrapes and aching ribs. "Dat's her ring!"

"Ain't it Tuesday night?" Jean Luc asked. "Ain't she got her schoolin'?"

Remy answered as fast as he could, pressing the phone to his ear. "Dat you, Cher? Hang on jus' a minute, ah'm goin' inside!"

Jean Luc grinned and held up a hand in farewell before leaving. Remy smiled gratefully at him before shutting the door behind him. The place was dark and quiet, free from any sign of Bella Donna.

He flipped on the light and hurried to sit. "Ah'm here, mah Cher. What you doin' awake?! It's a'most four in da mornin'!"

It was glorious to hear her voice, but she was tired. "Oh ah know, Cajun, but that's when y'get in from work. Ah wanted t'hear yer voice…"

"Anythin' wrong, Cher?" he asked, worried.

He heard her yawn. "Nah, ain't nothin' wrong, Ah guess. Jus' the usual."

Remy settled, relieved. He sat back and winced at his wounds, but they were the last thing on his mind. "Tell me 'bout it, Cher. Ah wanna know."

"School's been okay, but Logan's on me 'bout mah grades," she said, sleepily." Since we got pegged at the movies, kids at school bin downright cruel t'Kurt. Ah bin threatenin' right'n left an' ah got called t'detention three days this week."

"What?" Remy frowned. "Gettin' da paddle defendin' Preacher?"

She laughed lightly. "Nothin' like that, Cajun. They don't paddle up North!"

He chuckled, but it hurt his ribs. "What else Ah bin missin'? Last Ah heard, da blonde Barbie bin moved in da school."

"Oh, yeah, she's still here," Anna said sourly. "She an' Warren broke it off an' she's bin smilin' her way t'good graces 'round here. Professor says she's here t'stay."

"Damn," Remy shook his head. "Sorry, Cher."

"She jus' fake," she said. "Ah don' do fake."

Remy smiled. "Ah know, Cher."

She yawned and he could hear it was a wide one. "Hey, Cajun, ah gotta sleep, ah'm sorry. Kurt's gonna git on my case if he hears me on the phone."

"Den get t'bed!" Remy insisted. "Don' you git in trouble on mah account, y'hear?"

She giggled and it warmed his heart. "Ah won't, ah jus' don't like hangin' up. You go t'bed, mah Cajun." Her voice lowered a little with affection and it made his heart beat faster. "You work too hard, darlin'…"

He smiled warmly, pleased, and pictured how she might be in her room although he'd never been there. "Don' ya tease me, Cher," he chuckled. "Ah'll call when ah can t'morrow, ok?"

"Not b'fore five tomorrow night," she said, still with a purr in her voice. She knew what it did to him. "Ah got detention, r'member? Til tomorrow!" She kissed the receiver.

"Ah love you, Cher," he said, smiling.

She giggled. "Right back atcha, Cajun!" After that, she hung up.

He slowly put his phone away, smiling to himself at how the world seemed to float after he heard from Anna. He almost never remembered what he said to her, only that it made her giggle and talk to him in that gorgeous, special voice. He wished he could be where she was and touch her hair, even hold her gloved hand…

The door rattled as it was unlocked and he was jolted from his imagination as Bella Donna let herself in.

"Why you gotta lock it, Remy?" she snapped. "Ya gotta know ah was comin' t'see ya."

"Ah don' wanna get shot up in 'ere," Remy snipped back. "An' it won' hurt y'none t'knock, y'know!"

She dropped her bag by the door, slumping her strapless shoulders petulantly. "Don' you yell at me, Remy! Ah don' like it! Ya always come in wit'out knockin', an' ah pay fer this place since ah jus' love y'so much…"

Remy glowered and stuck his personal phone out of sight.

"What's dat y'got, Remy, bebé?" She hurried around and stopped when she saw him from the front. "Gawd, what happen' t'you?"

"Ah'm fine, y'hear?" Remy said pushing away her hand when she reached to touch his scratches. "Ah'll git cleaned up an ah'll be right in no time" –

Bella Donna climbed next to him on the couch. "Oh bebé, y'gotta let me take care'a dem cuts! Don' you worry," she purred, pushing his hair out of the way with one hand while her other slid down to his inner thigh.

"Hey!" He said, jumping to his feet with a wince. "Ah ain't playin' dat game wit' ya now, Belle, hear me?"

Her impatience showed in her frustrated pout. "What got int' you, bebé? Ah jus wanna kiss it bettah." She smiled and stuck out her 16 year old chest, giving him a wink.

Remy's temper flared. "T'ain't 'nough y'slip somethin' int'mah drink t'git what y'want! Ah git torn up, shot at, an' ripped off by yer devil of a brother! Ah don' like bein' paraded 'round so folks can be thinkin' him an 'yer kin be lovin' us mutants! Ah don' want no part'a dat lie!"

Bella Donna's face went livid, her eyes dark and furious. "How dare you?!" she hissed. "How dare y'lie?! You know what all would happen wit'out me!"

"Like what now, Belle?" he demanded.

"Ah won't play dis game, Remy," she snapped, standing to face him furiously. "You want out, you go 'head an' run up t'dat tramp you bin hidin' up north! Let yer daddy down 'ere hold up fer hisself an' you go up dere wit' no place, no food, no bourbon, no job, an' no girl t'take any time y'want!" She softened and slid on a seductive smile, stepping up close to him. "Don' ah give y'everythin', bebé?" He shuddered as she ran her hands over his hips. "Life be good here wit' me, y'know… not a worry, work, good bourbon, an' love…"

When she pressed her hips to his, he gritted his teeth and grabbed her arm, flinging her away and to the rug. "Ah had enough'a dis!" he shouted, furious and fed up. He met her eyes with his burning red ones and the words dripped from his lips like venom. "You could nevah have me killed!"

Her eyes got wide, looking up at him in shock.

"Ain't no way you could put me on ya' bruddah's hit list fer sayin' dis', an' by God ah'm sayin' it! Ah don' love you!" he roared, venting words he'd never been furious enough to say before. "Ah hate it here an' ah love mah girl who'd nevah treat me how you do! Ah ain't no toy, damn it, ah'm bettah den all ya' shit!"

His heart pounded hard and he was shocked at how much he said, but he didn't waver at all. Every word was true and he was so fed up. He knew she was bluffing.

He wasn't, however, quick or composed enough for Bella Donna's next move.

In a flash of steel, she yanked a knife from her boot and struck it into the side of his leg all the way up the 4 inch blade.

Pain seared up and through his leg and he fell, clutching his thigh as it throbbed and grew hot with blood. His vision blurred a bit with the pain, but Bella Donna now stood over him, shouting, her eyes streaming furious tears. "Ah could kill ya mahself! Ah could do it an' not evah lose a wink'a sleep, Remy LeBeau! So y'bettah get yer drunkass mind right, or ah might jus' dump you back where ah found ya! T'ink on dat!"

She whirled to the front door and left, slamming it so hard behind her that a picture fell off the wall nearby.

Remy hissed at the powerful pain, but dragged himself to the kitchen, using the well-stocked first aid kit. The knife had caught only flesh, and he knew Belle could have opened up a vein if she really wanted him dead. She had a few hits on her record and she preferred her knives.

Remy, his leg bandaged, swigged heavily from his bottle of bourbon to cut the pain before he dragged himself to the bedroom and collapsed on the unmade bed.

Breathing hard from the effort and the dull, aching pain through his body, Remy let his mind go blank in the dark until he fell deep asleep and began to dream.

Like an angel of light, he saw a young, beautiful girl appear and come toward him where he lay on some soft place. She was curvy, well-covered with long white gloves and had a white streak of hair from her forehead among her soft brown hair.

Remy's heart filled with pleasure and she didn't have to say anything. His Anna. His Mississippi queen, his Yankee princess.

She came over and sat next to him. "You got yerself cut up, Cajun. Didn' ah tell ya to keep outta trouble?" She tended to his leg as he dreamed, then laid down next to him, allowing him to hold her hand and play with her fingers. He knew they were talking, but it hardly mattered in his sleepy bliss what it was they talked about. She was smiling, he was happy, and she was close.

Each time he reached out to touch her or get closer, she'd laugh and slide away. She shook her head at him, but it was all the more charming.

There were real dangers to touching even her cheek, but Remy wanted to use up all the dream-help he had and he grabbed her around the waist to kiss her.

Suddenly she wasn't next to him, but was running away, laughing. So he chased after, but couldn't catch up. Remy called after her and she paused, turning to smile at him with her arms open to him.

Remy jolted awake when his dream flashed everything away in a bright light and a crash. "Huh?!" He sat up and swore at the pain in his leg. He heard shouting next door and grunted, unhappy the neighbors broke something else and disturbed his Anna dream.

He looked at the clock and groaned again. "'Leven? Ain't no respectin' thief be awake at 'leven." His leg throbbed and he saw it was bleeding again. "Damn. Hope cousin Louis' be open dis early… best git him t'stitch it."

With great care he got up and to where his friend could patch up his leg and the wounds from earlier that night.

Not long after he was pieced back together, he stood out on the street and headed off hoping for a poker game he might join. All things considered, he hoped a good game would get his mind off what Bella Donna may do, and off of the ache his dream left him with.

Everything felt uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the day had something hanging over it. He had the feeling he did when he was being watched, or when he was watching someone else. It was the feeling of just before a strike.

He did find a game going on, and although it was small change to the high stakes games he dealt for Boudreaux. It was with friends of Jean Luc's, and in a comfortable bar at the center of the local gossip chain.

"Ya ain't bin 'round much, Remy," old Dano said, smoking as usual on the pipe that was older than the bar itself.

"Jus' bin hard worked," Remy replied, letting the familiar feel of the card deck run through his fingers.

Ray, Jean Luc's brother-in-law, took his hand of cards for the round. "Bella Donna bin hell 'round here las' night an' all dis mornin'. You give 'er hell, Remy?"

He watched Remy carefully, as did the whole table.

He paused in his shuffling, considering what to say. Every one of them knew she as good as had chains on him over the family rivalry. Remy, though, just shook his head. "Jus' a lil spat. Ain't nothin' big."

The men leaned back in their chairs, disappointed and unsatisfied.

"Y'gotta give dat girl a whippin'!" old Dano snorted, and a couple of the other older men at the bar murmured in agreement. "She goin' 'round sleepin' evah-where from da bayou t'here inna Qua'tah! Paradin' roun', loose as'a day she was born! No shame in dat'un…"

"Don' bring down on Remy none, Dano," Ray cut in. "He ain't gotta choice."

"Yeah he do!" he insisted and the older men chimed in.

"Remy got 'is manhood, don' he?"

"His daddy didn' raise him up no fool."

"Boy gotta draw da line onna woman like dat!"

As the discussion went on, Remy's attention went to the TV that was on behind the bar. They were all good men he loved and respected. He was raised under the cloud of their cigars and their well-worn advice. They were also the ones who taught him how to win every hand, coached him in his first card tricks, and the first to give him a whip with their belt when he picked their pockets.

Now, though, he knew they couldn't tell him what to do. He was in hell, stuck in a dead end road, while he knew and ached for somewhere that had hope. It just felt like that was a dream he had over and over it was always going to be just out of reach.

The ball game that was on the TV over the bar was interrupted by a breaking news bulletin and a few people looked up. Remy just kept watching.

The female anchor looked a bit panicked, but fought to hold her composure. Remy was never fooled by a poker face.

"Sorry to interrupt the game, folks, but we've received reports of a possible terrorist attack on several high schools in the New York area."

Remy's focus was completely on the screen now, and at the word 'terrorist' the entire bar went silent and tense.

"We have a feed from Baywood High School in the Westchester area, one of those hit most severely" –

Remy's heart stopped. Anna's school. Anna's school was attacked!

"Remy?" Ray said his voice far away. "Remy, what're y'standin' for? What"-

"Shuddup fer a minute!" Remy waved his hand angrily for silence, riveted on the screen. It showed a sky full of smoke, caution tape, and the lights of emergency vehicles.

A male anchor stood just in front of the tape. –"the blast took out the northern section of a hall full of students on their way to their lunch hour. Students are still being accounted for and there are several injured. We have not received word of any fatalities as of yet, though several hundred yards of the wall caved in from the blast. We have heard this is a mutant-related incident, directed toward known mutants who attend"-

Students were being herded to a clear place, going behind the news anchor and a face unspeakably dear to Remy crossed with them. He panicked inside. There was Anna! She was soot-covered with a scrape on her cheek as she fought the flow of students and paramedics. Her voice carried over the others, yelling for her brother.

"Anna!" he said, eyes wide and feeling so useless he could die.

The anchor, after the crowd passed, received a prompt from behind the camera. "Really?" He turned and suddenly pointed. "There! Over there!"

The camera shifted, focused, and refocused on the hole in the school where two paramedics lifted out a limp form. It was a mutant, clearly blue even through the dust and the dirt. Remy's heart stopped when he saw a spade tail drooping to the ground.

The news shifted immediately back to the Louisiana anchor. "We have news a school here in New Orleans has also been attacked! Here's"-

Remy didn't listen. He grabbed his coat and shoved his winnings in his pocket in one fistful.

"Where you goin', Remy?" Dano demanded, surprised.

"Ah'm goin' North!" he snapped.

Ray caught his arm and held it.

"Don' you stop me," Remy growled, but he paused when he saw sympathy in Ray's eyes.

"Ah'll git you a plane, son," he said, gripping his arm. "All hell's gonna break loose, ah feel it. Now's when ya gotta git out if ya gonna make it alive."

"What about daddy?" Remy said, looking for help to protect the one person he was responsible for.

Ray frowned. "Don' you worry 'bout Jean Luc, son. He's d'LeBeau what will always git his way! Y'want da plane or no?"

"Ah'll take it!" Remy heard himself say, though the whole world felt like it was collapsing on top of him.

The next few minutes were a blur that felt like hours. He heard people as he went out through the city. They were yelling, moving, shouting about attacks on schools and on mutant businesses all over the country.

Remy went to the bank and took out all his money. The teller, a friend of the LeBeau name, simply wished him luck and Godspeed on his way.

"_Way to where?"_ he thought as he went from the bank straight to the address of a man with his private plane. He didn't know New York. He didn't know there would be a place for his kind of person up there.

The biggest city he'd ever been in was Baton Rouge, and New York had the biggest, richest cities in the world!

Nervous, but terribly worried for Anna and Kurt, he thought hard. _"Professah, you up dere?" _He hitched a ride with a truck headed out of the city toward the friend's place. After a few minutes there was still no response from the Professor.

Remy's mind spun on the devastation of young mutants being talked about on every radio station and the danger Anna and Kurt were in. There were reports of bombs, shootings, riots. In every state there was at least one young mutant fatality and the country was in an uproar.

In the middle of it all, he was surprised he was so… calm. He knew he was leaving the only home he ever knew. He knew if he left, he could be killed for ever coming back.

He also knew he was leaving the man who raised him from a six year old orphan to a man.

He called Jean Luc several times as he made his way to the ranch and the grass airstrip. There was no answer and after leaving his third message Remy shoved his phone in his pocket and hopped out of the truck bed, thanking the man who gave him a lift.

"Harrison's out back, boy," he told Remy. "He knowed you was comin'."

Remy clasped his hand briefly. "Thanks… Ah mean it."

He nodded. "Safe travels."

As he drove away, Remy shouldered his bag and jogged around back, hearing the two-seat plane's engine revving. How could he explain to Jean Luc if he never even got to –?

"Hey! Remy!"

He stopped and stared. Jean Luc was there and apparently had been waiting for him. He ran over and embraced Remy suddenly.

Remy didn't respond right away to the hug, guilty. "Ah have t'do it, daddy, ah have to!"

"Shuddup, Remy, an' don' worry 'bout it," Jean Luc said, letting him go. He looked sorrowful, but there was a small proud smile on his lips. "The fam'ly can take dis fight from 'ere."

The expression made Remy feel guiltier. "Daddy, ah" –

"No, Remy, dis all bin goin' on too long," Jean Luc shook his head. "Don' ya be like that. Ah knowed y'could do more with ya' life if y'weren't caged up fer the Boudreaux's."

Remy was speechless and his heart ached looking at this father, thief, and very proud man admit he was wrong.

Jean Luc seemed to see that and drew himself up taller with a firm look. "Now you promise me, hear? Git good schoolin'! Love ya' woman right! An' make me proud as hell of ya! Mind me, boy?"

Remy clasped his hand and pulled him close. "Ah mind, daddy. Ah promise, Ah'll do it."

Jean Luc held him until the plane's engine revved impatiently. He let Remy go and shoved him toward the plane with a playful kick to Remy's pants. "Quit draggin', Boy, an' git!"

Remy heard his chuckle and waved as he ran and jumped in the passenger seat, swallowing tears with determination.

"Buckle in, son, we be flyin' low," the pilot said. "Air traffic's canceled, but we're flyin' anyhow!"

Remy sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He silently prayed for the first time in years. He prayed for Jean Luc, and now for Anna and Kurt that he'd find them alive when he arrived.


End file.
